THE  LIBRARY 
OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


ONE   SUMMER. 


"  Sunshine 's  everywhere,  and  summer  too." 


BOSTON: 
JAMES   R.   OSGOOD   AND   COMPANY, 

Late  Ticknor  &  Fields,  and  Fields.  Osgood,  &  Co. 
1875. 


COPTEIGHT,   1875. 

JAMES  R.  OSGOOD  &  CO. 


UNIVERSITY  PRESS:  WELCH,  BIGELOW,  &  Co., 
CAMBRIDGE 


30 


ONE    SUMMER. 


CHAPTER    I. 

'  The  world's  male  chivalry  has  perished  out, 
But  women  are  knights-errant  to  the  last, 
And  if  Cervantes  had  'been  greater  still, 
He  had  made  his  Don  a  Donna." 

MBS.  BROWNING. 

ITH  a  half-amused,  half-impatient  ex- 
pression, she  slowly  turned  from  an  un- 
successful attempt  to  see  through  the 
blackness  of  darkness  outside  the  window, 
and  looked  about  the  quaint  old  room.  It  was 
furnished  with  that  profound  regard  for  angles 
which  characterizes  the  New  England  country- 
house  adorned  by  the  taste  of  fifty  years  ago.  An 
uncompromising  sofa  loftily  elevated  its  antique 
back,  and  contemplated  with  austere  approval  a 
line  of  rigidly  upright  chairs  placed  at  exact  dis- 
tances upon  the  parallelograms  of  the  carpet,  and 
flanked  by  two  triangular  footstools.  Everywhere 
was  solidity,  regularity,  the  quintessence  of  stiff- 
ness, except  in  a  deep  recessed  window  where  a 
pretty  modern  Vandal,  with  fluffy  golden  hair, 
was  curled  up  upon  the  faded  damask  cushions, 
and  gazing  with  wide-open  saucy  eyes  upon  the 
treasures  of  time  surrounding  her. 


622706 


8  ONE  SUMMER. 

"  Such  a  hopelessly  heavy  rain  !  I  would  like 
to  be  a  man  just  long  enough  to  run  do\vh  to 
Pratt's  for  that  book,  but  no  longer,  0  no,  not  a 
moment  longer  !  "  And  she  complacently  glanced 
down  at  the  lace  ruffles  falling  over  her  pretty 
wrists,  with  conscious  satisfaction  shook  out  her 
soft  draperies,  and  meditatively  eyed  the  tips  of 
her  delicate  French  kid  boots. 

Renounce  these  delicious  feminine  belongings 
and  be  transformed  into  a  great  man  in  an  ugly 
tall  hat  and  a  dress  all  straight  lines  and  angles 
like  that  odious  room  ]  Never !  Not  for  all  pos- 
sible wealth  and  glory  and  renown  would  she,  even 
if  it  were  within  her  power,  depart  from  "  that  state 
of  life  into  which  it  had  pleased  God  to  call  her." 
It  was  lovely  to  be  a  woman.  She  knew  so  many 
brave,  patient,  noble  ones.  And  her  mind  wandered 
to  friends  far  away,  and;  dwelling  affectionately 
upon  their  sweet  and  gracious  womanhood,  she 
forgot  the  storm  without  and  the  prim,  cheerless 
room,  lighted  by  one  kerosene-lamp,  which  stared 
down  at  her  from  the  high  wooden  mantel  like  a 
sullen  eye  gloating  over  the  loveliness  of  the  for- 
lorn little  maiden.  Roused  from  her  brief  revery 

by 

"  A  wind  that  shrieked  to  the  window-pane, 
A  wind  in  the  chimney  moaning," 

she  rose  and  slowly  paced  up  and  down  the  room. 
The  coral-branches  on  the  whatnot,  the  grim  ma- 
hogany skeleton  that  haunted  a  shadowv  corner, 
seemed  to  beckon  with  their  white  ghostly  arms. 
From  the  queer  paintings  on  the  walls,  the  beady 
eyes  of  shepherdesses  with  brick-red  feverish  cheeks 


ONE  SUMMER.  9 

watched  her  fixedly.  "  Did  anybody  ever  really 
enjoy  life  here  \ "  she  wondered.  One  might  drag 
out  a  weary  existence  in  such  a  place,  but  one 
could  not  live.  Ah,  no !  the  joy  of  living  is  far 
removed  from  this  desolation.  Thus  in  the  naugh- 
ty impatience  of  youth  did  Miss  Laura  Leigh 
Doane  dare  to  heap  all  manner  of  abuse  upon  good 
old  Mother  Jackson's  "  best  parlor,"  where  were 
arrayed  her  most  venerated  Penates,  cherished 
objects  handed  down  from  past  generations  or 
gathered  together  through  the  long  years  of  her 
monotonous  life,  and  always  sacredly  guarded  from 
the  approach  of  the  profanum  vulgus.  The  orna- 
ments, if  one  may  be  permitted  to  use  so  frivolous 
a  ter*m  in  regard  to  the  smaller  relics,  were  taken 
up  tenderly,  lifted  with  care,  when  the  momen- 
tous event  of  a  yearly  tea-party  rendered  sweeping 
and  dusting  imperative  ;  the  more  massive  treas- 
ures were  moved  but  slightly,  and  by  the  priestess's 
own  hands,  and  then  gently  pushed  back  upon 
the  identical  spots  in  the  carpet  where  she  herself 
had  first  placed  them  in  admiring  awe  half  a  cen- 
tury before.  Dear  old  lady,  who  closed  her  eyes 
peacefully  and  was  gathered  to  her  fathers,  little 
dreaming  that  erelong  the  sacred  precincts  of  her 
"  best  room  "  would  be  invaded  by  this  contemptu- 
ous young  thing  ! 

"  If  I  could  only  have  a  grand  incantation-scene, 
and  conjure  up  the  departed  widow's  wraith," 
the  girl  thought  wickedly,  "  how  I  should  revel  in 
.giving  her  a  few  modern  ideas  in  regard  to  beauti- 
fying her  homestead  !  Even  a  ghost  would  be  a 
relief  to  my  feelings."  And  with  a  despairing 
* 


JO  ONE  SUMMER. 

sigh  she  drew  from  her  pocket  a  letter  which  she 
had  read  and  reread  many  times  since  it  had 
arrived  late  that  day,  and  which  at  each  perusal 
conveyed  fresh  aggravation  to  Miss  Doane's  per- 
turbed spirit. 

,  July  2,  18—. 

MY  DEAR  LEIGH,  —  Sorry  to  say  that  some  business 
complications  have  just  turned  up  which  may  detain 
me  here  three  weeks,  and  possibly  longer.  Bessie 
thought  at  first  she  would  join  you  immediately,  but 
dreads  the  long  journey  with  nurse  and  baby,  and  so 
concludes  to  wait  for  me  to  pilot  her  through.  You 
must  therefore  possess  your  soul  in  patience,  and  do 
try  some  of  your  winning  ways  on  the  austere  Phipps, 
that  the  household  wheels  may  run  smoothly  before 
our  advent  ;  and  above  all,  impress  upon  the  worthy 
spinster's  mind  the  virtue,  nay,  the  necessity  of  mod- 
erately late  breakfasts.  My  six-o'clock  penance  the 
morning  I  was  there  still  lingers  in  my  shuddering 
memory.  I  was  not  prepared  to  mortify  the  flesh  so 
cruelly.  Triumph  over  this  abuse,  my  child,  and  you 
will  receive  my  tearful  blessing,  and  also  the  reward  of 
an  approving  conscience,  having  overthrown  one  evil  in 
this  naughty  world. 

The  box  of  books  I  have  forwarded  to-day  at  Bessie's 
suggestion.  She  declares  you  would  be  a  miserable 
girl  without  your  German  and  the  rest  of  your  hobbies. 
I  saw  some  pamphlets  down  town  this "  morning,  — 
"  Alone  "  and  "  A  Waif"  and  "  Forlorn  "  and  "  The 
Wanderer,"  —  and  I  ordered  half  a  dozen  to  be  sent  up 
to  the  house,  the  titles  were  so  touching  and  so  sug- 
gestive of  your  situation  ;  so  if  you  find  them  you  will 
know  whom  to  thank,  but  it  is  possible  Bessie  has  scorn- 
fully rejected  my  humble  contribution  to  your  comfort. 
Do  not  be  discouraged  if  the  box  puts  in  a  tardy 
appearance  in  those  remote '  wilds.  Somehow  I  feel 
conscience-stricken  that  I  left  you  in  the  forsaken  old 


ONE  SUMMER.  H 

place  ;  but  how  could  I  deny  my  wilful  sister  when  she 
insisted,  not  without  reason,  upon  going  down  with 
me,  "  to  make  things  comfortable  for  Bessie  "  1  I  can- 
not help  reproaching  myself  that  I  did  not  bring  you 
back  ;  still  you  are  safe  enough,  after  all,  Leigh.  Dragon 
Phipps  would  be  a  host  in  herself  in  case  of  anybody 
daring  to  "  molest  her  ancient  solitary  reign,"  and  I 
would  trust  that  dear  little  head  of  yours  the  world 
over. 

By  the  way,  Harry  Blake  tells  me  that  our  old  chum 
Philip  Ogden  is  straying  about  somewhere  in  your 
vicinity  in  search  of  health  and  quiet.  Something  has 
given  out,  —  eyes,  I  believe.  Perhaps  you  may  stumble 
against  him  somewhere.  I  really  wish  you  might  meet 
him.  He  would  make  it  more  agreeable  for  you  till 
we  can  get  down,  which  you  may  be  very  sure  will  be 
just  so  soon  as  I  can  arrange  matters.  Ogden  is  exact- 
ly the  style  of  man  you  like.  If  I  can  learn  his  retreat, 
and  he  is  sufficiently  near,  I  will  drop  him  a  line  and 
tell  him  to  call  and  pay  his  respects  to  the  second-best 
little  woman  in  the  world,  who  is  in  a  woful  plight 
just  now,  thanks  to  the  stupidity  of  her  affectionate 
brother, 

TOM. 

Scrawled  languidly  in  pencil  beneath  Mr.  Tom 
Otis's  dashing  chirography  was 

Is  it  not  too  ridiculous,  you  poor  dear,  for  you  to  be 
left  all  alone  in  that  horrid  place  ?  J  do  not  know 
whether  to  laugh  or  to  cry,  and  Tom  feels  really 
dejected,  though  he  puts  on  mannish  airs, 'of  course, 
and  talks  about  inexorable  fate,  and  sa}rs  that  you  are 
ecp:ial  to  any  emergency,  and,  moreover,  that  nothing  so 
startling  and  unexpected  as  an  emergency  ever  did  or 
ever  will  happen  in  Edgecomb.  But  do  be  careful 
about  fastening  the  doors  and  windows.  There  might 
be  stragglers  even  in  that  innocent  village,  I  suppose. 


12  ONE  SUMMER. 

And  air  our  rooms  from  inoniing  till  night  so  the  sweet 
sunshine  will  conquer  the  mouldiness.  My  baby  must 
not  inhale  the  breath  of  past  ages.  I  know  you  have 
everything  ready  for  us  even  now,  dear,  so  there 's  no 
more  unpacking  and  arranging  to  occupy  you  unfor- 
tunately ;  but  Tom  says  the  place  is  very  beautiful, 
which  is  the  only  consolation  I  have  in  thinking  of  you. 
You  will  at  least  have  something  to  look  at,  and  three 
weeks  will  come  to  an  end  sometime.  But  O,  dear, 
it 's  so  perfectly  absurd  for  you  to  be  there  alone  !  I 
almost  wish  we  had  decided  to  stay  at  home  all  sum- 
mer. 

I  '11  write  more  when  I  feel  a  little  stronger.  Tom 
stands  over  me  like  an  ogre  and  threatens  to  take  away 
my  penciL 

Very  lovingly, 

BESSIE. 

With  a  comical  look  of  resignation  the  girl  re- 
placed the  letter  in  its  envelope.  The  situation 
was  unpleasant,  yet  after  all  it  might  have  been 
worse.  The  perseciitions  of  the  early  Christians 
had  unquestionably  been  less  endurable,  she 
thought  smilingly ;  and  then  for  nearer  examples 
there  was  poor  Robinson  Crusoe,  and  that  unfor- 
tunate young  woman  of  Charles  Reade's,  whom  the 
eccentric  novelist  deposits  upon  a  lonely  island  with 
a  transcendental  impossible  lover  for  her  only  com- 
panion. Phipps  was  a  priceless  boon  compared  with 
him.  Three  week?,  —  only  three  little  weeks,  — 
r.ot  such  an  interminable  time  as  it  had  seemed  in 
her  first  disappointment  when  the  stage-coach  had 
lumbered  along  and  brought  the  letter  instead  of 
her  dear  ones.  And  Bessie  was  right.  The  place 
was  very  beautiful  She  would  indeed  have  some- 


ONE  SUMMER.  13 

thing  to  look  at.  Edgecomb  was  full  of  languid 
stately  beauty,  and  rich  with  memories  of  days 
gone  by,  before  "  the  vicissitudes  of  changeful 
time "  had  swept  away  its  'commerce  and  its 
wealth,  the  throbbing  life  from  its  busy  marts  and 
crowded  wharves.  It  had  a  history.  It  was  not 
always  so  silent  and  so  staid.  The  city-bred  girl, 
with  her  quick  intuitions,  had  breathed  in  the 
story  told  by  the  few  grand  old  residences,  with 
their  rows  of  superb  and  ancient  elms,  half  uncon- 
sciously, as  she  had  inhaled  the  sweetness  of  the 
new-mown  hay,  the  heavy  fragrance  of  the  rich 
ripe  strawberries  in  the  fields  near  by,  and  the 
delicious  saltness  brought  by  the  evening  breeze 
from  the  not  far  distant  sea.  Even  in  the  con- 
fusion of  unpacking  huge  boxes,  arranging  their 
contents,  and  making  sagacious  little  plans  for  the 
comfort  of  the  invalid,  Edgecomb's  quiet  loveli- 
ness had  spoken  to  her  deeply  appreciative  nature 
in  the  tender  language  of  a  benediction.  The 
place  was  perfect  in  peace. 

She  would  be  an  ingrate  to  rebel  against  her 
fate  when  she  could  wander  about  at  her  own  sweet 
will,  walk  on  that  long  open  bridge  at  sunset,  take 
a  book  to  the  summit  of  one  of  those  pretty  hills, 
and  read  or  idly  glance  down  on  the  silent  river 
widening  to  the  bay.  Why,  the  prospect  positively 
began  to  grow  inviting.  Certainly  it  was  an  un- 
precedented state  of  affairs.  No  one  ever  heard 
of  a  girl  left  entirely  to  her  own  devices  in  just 
this  way.  It  was  all  strange.  Odd  that  Tom  had 
heard  of  the  house  and  of  its  one  inmate,  and  that 
his  letters  had  prevailed  upon  her  to  move  out  of 


14  ONE  SUMMER. 

her  accustomed  grooves  sufficiently  to  agree  to 
take  them  for  the  summer.  £uch  a  big  queer  old 
house,  and  two  such  very  queer  old  women  had 
lived  in  it  by  themselves  so  long.  The  widow  was 
a  kind  soul  to  reward  her  faithful  Phipps —  who 
in  the  good  country-fashion  had  ministered  to  her 
as  a  sister  rather  than  as  a  servant  —  by  leaving 
her  the  old  homestead,  that  she,  like  her  mistress 
and  friend,  might  die  where  she  had  lived.  "  Two 
women  shall  be  grinding  at  the  mill ;  the  one 
shall  be  taken,  the  other  left."  How  strange  the 
world  was !  Strangest  of  all,  it  seemed  to  her 
just  then  that  she,  Laura  Leigh  Doane  should  be 
where  she  was,  wondering  how  many  cups  of  tea 
those  two  boon  companions  had  drunk  together. 
Two  apiece,  regularly,  three  times  a  day,  not 
counting  extras.  That  made  twelve  each  day. 
Eighty-four  a  week.  Three  hundred  and  thirty- 
six  a  month.  Twelve  times  tbree  hundred  and 
thirty-six  ]  —  Here  she  was  obliged  to  abandon 
mental  calculations,  and  resort  to  a  pencil  and 
the  corner  of  an  envelope.  —  Four  thousand  and 
thirty-two  in  a  year  !  And  how  many  years  ? 
She  dared  not  estimate.  Miss  Phipps's  appearance 
would  indicate  a  century  or  two.  But  how  de- 
lightful to  be  in  a  house  where  for  forty,  fifty 
years  at  the  very  least,  two  lonely  women  had, 
amid  the  mildest  of  gossipings,  solemnly  swallowed 
every  twelvemonth  four  thousand  and  thirty-two 
cups  of  tea  all  scalding  hot  and  superlatively 
strong  !  It  was  charming  —  unique,  and  —  the 
lamp  sputtered  and  the  rain  beat  against  the  panes. 
Again  she  was  suddenly  recalled  to  herself.  Ah, 


ONE  SUMMER.  15 

yes  !  everything  in  the  world  was  enjoyable  ex- 
cept that  dismal  room.  Three  weeks  in  Edge- 
comb  at  large,  with  its  wealth  of  beautiful  hills 
and  trees  and  waters  and  invigorating  salt  breezes, 
was  one  thing  ;  one  evening  in  that  room,  another, 
altogether  different  and  rapidly  growing  insup- 
portable. She  heard  a  step  on  the  plauk  side- 
walk. She  looked  out,  could  see  nothing,  but 
listened  to  the  heavy  tramp  coming  nearer  and 
nearer.  Tramp  —  tramp  —  the  man  had  passed 
the  window.  He  had  been  somewhere,  was  going 
somewhere.  Circumstances  had  not  conspired  to 
imprison  him  in  an  apartment  rendered  hideous 
and  sepulchral  by  a  certain  honest  but  mistaken 
widow  now  defunct.  Thrice-happy  man  ! 

"  No  doubt  men  are  blessed  in  some  respects 
beyond  their  deserts,"  she  said  to  herself,  petu- 
lantly. The  intricacies  of  politics  were  as  Hebrew 
to  her  ;  she  experienced  no  irresistible  longing  to 
be  an  independent  voter,  no  mysterious  magnetic 
drawing  to  the  rostrum  ;  but  at  that  moment, 
which  was,  unknown  to  her,  a  critical  one  in  her 
career,  she  did  thoroughly  covet  the  masculine 
privilege  of  defying  storms  without  also  defying 
the  proprieties,  and  for  the  second  time  that  even- 
ing came  the  absurd  little  wish  to  be  a  man  for 
only  a  wee  half-hour. 

What  would  the  storm  and  darkness  be  to  her 
then '?  Trifling  annoyances  merely,  not  insur- 
mountable obstacles  as  at  present.  So  easy  to 
pull  on  a  heavy  overcoat,  draw  a  soft  hat  well 
down  on  the  head,  grasp  an  umbrella  with  one 
muscular  hand,  thrust  the  other  in  a  warm  pocket, 


15  ONE  SUMMER. 

and,  with  no  petticoats  fluttering  in  the  wind  and 
impeding  progress,  carelessly  stalk  off. 

The  fascinating  picture  suggested  a  certain  pos- 
sibility. Why  should  she  not  go  out  if  she  wished  ] 
Why  might  she  not  go  down  for  the  novel  she  had 
noticed  that  morning  in  the  window  of  the  little 
bookstore  where  she  had  been  on  some  trifling  er- 
rand ]  She  had  wondered  then  how  anything  so 
new  had  strayed  there,  and  would  have  taken  the 
book,  but  needed  no  entertainment  with  the  im- 
mediate prospect  of  seeing  Bessie  and  baby  and 
Tom.  But  why  should  she  not  have  it  now  i  She 
looked  at  her  watch. 

"  Not  yet  half  past  eight.  I  'm  not  afraid," 
she  thought.  "  Nothing  could  harm  me  here,  and 
nobody  knows  me.  It  will  not  take  two  minutes 
to  slip  into  my  waterproof  and  rubbers.  I  know 
I  shall  not  take  cold.  It  w.ill  be  a  new  sensation 
to  be  out  alone  in  the  evening,  and  in  such  a  tre- 
mendous storm  too.  If  1  meet  with  an  adventure, 
all  the  better.  Why,  it 's  a  real  Walpurgis  Night. 
1  shall  feel  like  a  witch  !  " 

And  she  looked  like  one  as  she  started  up  with 
her  new  resolution  shining  out  through  mischiev- 
ous eyes  and  oddly  compressed  lips. 

She  was  young.  She  had  health,  inexhaustible 
spirits,  and  energy.  Her  own  ideas  were  apt  to 
interest  her.  She  was  in  that  state  of  idleness  in 
which  Satan  is  proverbially  said  to  be  devising 
"  mischief  still  "  to  cause  our  downfall.  And  she 
wanted  the  book.  These  are  the  reasons,  if  rea- 
sons they  be,  why  shortly  after  a  figure,  armed 
with  an  umbrella  and  well  wrapped  in  a  water- 


ONE  SUMMER.  17 

proof,  the  hood  drawn  up  snugly  over  a  close  little 
turban,  ran  lightly  down  the  broad  old-fashioned 
staircase,  with  a  gay  disregard  for  the  possible 
consternation  of  the  worthy  Phipps,  should  she 
know  of  the  wild  and  wayward  exploit,  and  gently 
opening  the  massive  door,  sprang  with  a  sense  of 
rare  exhilaration  and  delight  out  into  the  wind  and 


13  ONE  SUMMER. 


CHAPTER    II. 


"  T  is  not  so  deep  as  a  well  nor  so  wide  as  a  church-door  ;  but  't  is 
enough, 'twill  serve." 

Itomco  and  Juliet. 

ORBIDDEN  fruit  being  ever  to  our  fallen 
natures  the  richest  and  ripest  and  sweet- 
est, Miss  Doane  experienced  vivid  satis- 
faction in  executing  her  fantastic  scheme. 
She  hilariously  floundered  off  and  on  the  narrow 
sidewalk,  always  insecure,  and  on  this  memorable 
night  rendered  unusually  treacherous  by  occasional 
streams  of  running  water  and  deep  hidden  pools  ; 
she  joyously  welcomed  the  cold  rain-drops  as  they 
beat  persistently  against  her  cheek,  and  was  intox- 
icated with  the  pleasure  of  struggling  with  all  her 
might  against  the  constant  efforts  of  the  wind  to 
seize  and  whirl  awav  her  umbrella,  —  efforts  which 
,t  she  interpreted  as  the  playful  frolics  of  a  friend, 
so  jovial  was  her  mood.  She  skipped  along, 
stumbled  along,  blew  along.  The  mode  of  pro- 
gression signified  nothing  to  her.  She  only  felt 
that  the  storm  was  superb,  that  the  great  elms 
whose  swaying  branches  she  could  barely  distin- 
guish in  the  darkness  were  sobbing  and  sighing 
around  her,  that  a  mighty  wind  was  almost  lifting 
her  bodily  from  the  ground.  She  pitied  girls,  her 
former  self  among  them,  who  had  only  ventured 
forth  in  decorous  drizzles,  and  who  knew  nothing 


ONE  SUMMER.  19 

of  the  rapturous  excitement  of  a  rrufd,  wild,  tem- 
pestuous night  like  this. 

She  reached  the  bookstore,  bought  the  coveted 
pamphlet.  The  man  stared  as  he  passed  the  book 
to  her.  Visions  of  tall  girls  with  glowing  cheeks 
and  sparkling  eyes  and  numerous  streamlets  trick- 
ling from  their  apparel,  half-breathlessly  demand- 
ing  light  literature  at  nearly  nine  o'clock  on  the 
stormiest  of  evenings,  were  not  frequent  in  his 
limited  experience,  and  "eyes  were  made  for  see- 
ing." The  gaze  of  the  grim  librarian  did  not  dis- 
concert Miss  Doane  in  the  least.  She  grasped  her 
novel  and  umbrella  and  passed  out  swiftly  into 
the  flood  like  a  nineteenth-century  Undine. 

The  buoyancy,  the  champagne-like  frothiness  of 
spirit  still  electrified  her ;  but  alas,  champagne 
loses  its  sparkle,  and  forbidden  fruit  must  some 
time  turn  to  dust  and  ashes  on  the  lips  that  taste 
it !  As  she  drew  near  an  exposed  corner,  it 
seemed  as  if  all  the  winds  of  heaven  had  broken 
loose,  were  rioting  madly,  and  seeking  whom  they 
might  devour.  Twice  they  beat  her  back  in  spite 
of  her  struggles,  twitched  violently  at  the  closely 
fastened  waterproof,  and  put  a  fiendish  desire  to 
soar  away  over  the  dusky  tree-tops  into  her  hith- 
erto trustworthy  umbrella.  She  retreated  a  step 
or  two,  stopped  a  moment  to  regain  her  breath, 
then,  taking  advantage  of  a  partial  cessation  of 
hostilities,  gathered  herself  together  for  a  final 
mighty  effort,  and,  with  head  bent  forward,  um- 
brella tightly  clinched  in  both  hands  and  held  at 
an.  angle  of  about  thirty  degrees,  made  a  grand 
spring,  charged  valiantly  through  the  warring  ele- 


20  ONE  SUMMER. 

ments,  triunfphantly  turned  the  corner,  and,  with 
singular  precision  of  aim,  plunged  the  apex  of  her 
umbrella  directly  into  the  face  and  eyes  of  an 
unwary  pedestrian  who  was  approaching  from  the 
opposite  direction. 

Miss  Doane's  momentum  was  great,  —  great 
also  the  severity  of  the  blow  she  had  unwittingly 
administered,  and  great  the  surprise  and  dismay 
she  experienced  at  finding  her  freedom  so  suddenly 
brought  to  an  inglorious  end.  In  the  confusion 
caused  by  the  abrupt  fall  of  her  spirits  from 
extreme  excitement  and  elation  to  real  regret, 
mingled  with  a  ludicrous  sense  of  the  absurdity  of 
her  unprovoked  assault,  the  "  I  beg  your  pardon, 
sir,"  which  sprang  from  her  heart  found  no  utter- 
ance. After  a  truly  feminine  fashion,  she  ran 
away  frantically  a  few  feet,  then  stood  still  and 
speechless  at  a  short  distance  from  her  victim. 

Who  was  he  ]  What  was  he  1  If  it  were  only 
light  enough  for  her  to  judge  by  his  looks  whether 
she  had  better  offer  him  assistance ;  for  an  excla- 
mation of  pain  at  the  moment  of  the  umbrella's 
direful  deed,  and  now  the  stranger's  motionless 
attitude,  gave  sufficient  evidence  that  he  was 
suffering.  After  all,  whatever  he  might  be, 
whether  fierce  desperado  —  a  growth  not  indige- 
nous to  Edgecomb  soil,  she  knew  well  —  or  in- 
nocent ploughboy,  which  was  much  more  likely  to 
be  the  case,  in  ordinary  kindness  she  could  not 
leave  him  without  a  word  of  sympathy.  Pruden- 
tial motives  for  declining  to  enter  into  conversa- 
tion with  a  stranger  in  utter  darkness,  and  the 
instinctive  womanlv  desire  to  be  of  service  if  she 


ONE  SUMMER.  21 

were  needed,  together  with  unusual  difficulty  in 
knowing  what  to  say,  struggled  for  mastery  in- the 
girl's  mind  during  the  agitating  minute  which 
followed  the  accident.  A  half-suppressed  groan 
from  the  subject  of  her  reflections  made  her 
ashamed  of  her  silly  scruples,  and  she  moved 
towards  him  with  an  expression  of  sincerest  re- 
gret upon  her  lips.  Her  remark  was  however 
unspoken,  for  the  stranger  at  the  same  moment 
advanced,  and  in  a  gentlemanly  voice  said,  — 

"  My  good  woman  —  " 

"  Good  woman,,  indeed ! "  she  thought  indig- 
nantly and  with  a  sudden  revulsion  of  feeling, 
her  sympathies  giving  way  to  wounded  pride  of 
station.  "  Does  he  take  me  for  a  milkmaid  1 " 
Then,  common-sense  coming  to  the  rescue  :  "  Well, 
am  I  not  a  good  woman  1  Naughtier  than  usual 
to-night,  no  doubt,"  with  sundry  misgivings  as  to 
the  strict  propriety  of  her  conduct,  "  but  a  good 
woman,  nevertheless.  Certainly  there  is  nothing 
offensive  in  the  words'  in  themselves.  Nobody 
ever  happened  to  call  me  so  before,  and  there  is  a 
good  deal  in  association  ;  but  the  poor  man  is  in 
a  dilemma,  too ;  how  in  the  world  is  he  to  know 
in  what  manner  to  address  me  1 " 

He  evidently  was  somewhat  embarrassed.  He 
had  hesitated  after  first  using  the  obnoxious 
phrase  ;  but,  reasoning  that  the  "  Madam  "  which 
would  be  his  involuntary  mode  of  address  under 
other  circumstances  would  be  wholly  out  of  place 
applied  to  a  servant  or  to  any  woman  out  unpro- 
tected on  such  a  furious  night,  he  went  on  in  a 
kind,  reassuring  tone,  — - 


22          .        OSE  smnaat. 

"  Do  not  be  alarmed.  Let  me  speak  with  you 
a  moment." 

This  seemed  to  be  an  invitation  to  approach,  as 
the  violence  of  the  storm  rendered  conversation  at 
her  present  distance  from  him  a  difficult  matter. 
There  was  in  his  manner  a  quiet  dignity,  —  almost 
a  command,  —  to  which  she  found  herself  at  once 
responding. 

"May  I  trouble  you  to  assist  me]"  he  asked 
as  she  drew  near,  and  saw  that  he  was  trying  to 
tie  his  handkerchief  round  his  head,  and  that  the 
wind  and  the  necessity  of  holding  his  hat  in  his 
hand  made  this  ordinarily  simple  operation  a  diffi- 
cult one.  Without  a  word,  she  mechanically  put 
her  umbrella  into  his  outstretched  hand,  took  the 
fluttering  handkerchief,  folded  it  compactly,  and 
tied  it  firmly,  in  accordance  with  his  direction, 
"  Round  both  eyes,  if  you  please,  —  not  too 
tight,"  then  stood  as  if  in  a  dream,  awaiting 
further  orders  from  this  unknown  and  extraordi- 
nary individual.  Recovering  herself,  she  ven- 
tured to  say,  — 

"Are  you  much  hurt,  sir1?     I  am  very  sorry." 

"  Not  seriously,  I  hope,  although  I  am  in  some 
pain,"  he  replied.  "  However,  it  is  my  own  fault. 
With  such  mean  and  miserable  eyes,  I  ought  not 
to  have  come  out  to-night,"  he  continued,  address- 
ing himself  rather  than  the  supposed  voung  rus- 
tic. 

"  Singular  coincidence  !  Neither  ought  I,"  she 
thought. 

"  My  good  girl."  —  an  indefinable  something 
had  told  him  that  it  was  a  young  girl  whose 


ONE  SUMMER.  23 

gentle,  dexterous  hands  had  touched  his  hair,  — 
"  do  you  think  you  could  —  '  He  paused,  then 
with  some  reluctance  said  :  "  The  fact  is,  I  hardly 
know  what  I  'd  better  do.  Your  umbrella  has 
nearly  put  out  my  eye, — has  injured  it  enough 
to  make  it  exceedingly  painful,  at  all  events,  — 
which  is  not  in  the  slightest  degree  your  fault,  of 
course,"  he  added,  courteously.  "  I  am  sorry  to 
ask  so  much  of  any  woman,  particularly  of  a 
stranger ;  but  could  you  be  my  guide  home  1 
Would  you  object  to  walking  to  my  boarding- 
place  with  mel" 

No  untutored  peasant-maiden  could  have  fal- 
tered, in  reply  to  this  somewhat  astounding  pro- 
posal, a  inoi'e  bashful  "  I  d-o-n'-t  k-n-o-w  "  than 
came  faintly  from  the  lips  of  the  self-possessed 
and  elegant  Miss  Doane. 

"These  country  girls  are  always  shy,"  he 
thought,  "  and  no  wonder  she  is  afraid  of  me 
inider  the  circumstances.  Poor  little  thing  !  " 

Then,  very  gently,  as  if  encouraging  a  frightened 
child,  he  explained  :  "  Indeed,  I  would  not  trouble 
you  if  I  could  help  it.  My  eyes  have  been  almost 
powerless  of  late,  and  I  hardly  dare  strain  them 
by  trying  to  grope  my  way  back  when  one  eye  is 
so  inflamed  and  irritated  by  that  hostile  weapon 
of  yours  that  the  other  is  suffering  in  sympathv. 
Perhaps  some  man  might  be  induced  to  go.  The 
difficulty  would  be  in  finding  anybody.  The  shops 
must  be  closed  at  this  hour."  Then,  with  the 
utmost  courtesy  :  "  You  need  not  be  afraid.  My 
name  is  Ogden.  I  am  staying  out  at  the  Holbrook 
Farm.  Pardon  me  if  I  ask  you  once  more  if  you 


24  ONE  SUMMER. 

will  be  good  enough  to  walk  there  with  me.  It  is 
possible  for  me  to  go  alone,  of  course  ;  but  diffi- 
cult, and  likely  to  be  worse  for  me  in  the  end  —  ' 
And  he  drew  a  long  breath  as  if  the  bruise  pained 
him,  and  as  if  it  wearied  him  to  make  so  careful 
an  explanation  for  the  benefit  of  this  extremely 
taciturn  young  country  woman. 

She  started  when  he  gave  his  name.  She  was 
seized  with  a  violent  impulse  to  seek  safety  in 
flight.  "  Such  an  incredible  state  of  things  !  "  she 
thought ;  then  bravely  accepted  the  situation,  and 
said  quietly,  — 

"  I  will  go  with  you,  sir." 

"  I  thank  you.  Will  you  take  my  arm  1  I  hope 
the  extra  walk  will  not  fatigue  you  ;  yet,  if  you 
dare  venture  out  at  all  to-night  —  He  stopped 
abruptly,  fearing  his  remark  might  seem  rude. 

In  her  interpretation,  his  unspoken  thought 
gained  tenfold  severity. 

"A  common,  coarse  country  girl  like  me,  who 
dares  venture  out  at  all  to-night,  cannot  be  injured 
by  walking  au  additional  mile,"  she  thought,  in 
much  vexation.  "  Does  he  need  to  be  formally 
presented  to  one  by  Mrs.  Grundy,  before  he  recog- 
nizes one  as  a  lady  ]  Ought  I  to  be  labelled, 
'  This  is  a  gentlewoman,'  that  the  stupid  man 
may  know  me  when  he  sees  me  ?•"  Then,  repent- 
ing, "But  the  poor  man  has  not  seen  me,* and  I 
have  hardly  opened  my  lips.  How  should  he 
know!"  After  a  moment  she  waxed1  indignant 
again.  "  But  he  ought  to  know.  He  ought  to 
know  without  hearing  or  seeing  me.  I  never  will 
excuse  it  in  him,  never ! " 


ONE  SUMMER.  25 

Thus,  her  heart  full  of  conflicting  emotions, 
pity  for  her  silent  companion  as  a  fellow-creature 
in  pain  alternating  with  unreasoning  wrath  against 
him  as  Mr.  Philip  Ogden  who  had  presumed  to 
adopt  towards  her  a  tone  of  calm  and  dignified 
superiority,  and  who  had  not  had  the  superhuman 
discernment  to  recognize  her,  in  spite  of  the  obsta- 
cles, as  his  social  equal,  Miss  Doane  walked  by  Mr. 
Ogden's  side,  inwardly  rebellious,  outwardly  guid- 
ing his  steps  with  praiseworthy  meekness. 

And  he  with  that  sickening  pain  in  the  eyes 
which  sends  a  throbbing  to  the  brain,  and  intense 
nervous  irritability  over  the  whole  s}rstem,  and 
makes  it  difficult  for  the  gentlest  nature  to  be 
patient,  thought  but  little  of  her  after  the  brief 
conversation  recorded.  She  was  the  means;  the 
speediest  possible  arrival  at  Farmer  Holbrook's, 
the  end  he  had  in  view.  So  through  the  storm 
these  two,  whom  Fate  had  so  curiously  thrown 
together,  pursued  their  way. 

She  knew  perfectly  where  the  farm  was.  She 
had  seen  it  on  the  main  road  as  she  entered  the 
village.  From  her  lofty  pinnacle  on  top  of  the 
"•  stage,  she  had  looked  admiringly  upon  its  soft 
undulating  fields,  thrifty  orchards,  snug  cottage, 
and  great  barns ;  and  Tom  had  inquired  the  own- 
er's name  of  the  stage-driver,  who  had  responded 
with  the  eager  loquacity  peculiar  to  the  genus. 
The  place  was  nearly  a  mile  from  Miss  Phipps's 
mansion,  for  whose  friendly  shelter  she  now  sighed, 
deeming  even  that  much-derided  parlor  an  unat- 
tainable bower  of  bliss. 

Once  the  idea  of  announcing  herself  to  this  cool 
2 


26  ONE  SUMMER. 

and  self-sufficient  gentleman,  of  witnessing  his  in- 
evitable embarrassment  should  she  mention  her 
name  and  Tom's,  and  of  so  revenging  herself, 
occurred  to  hei\  But  she  recalled  the  shade  of 
authority  which  she  had  observed  in  his  manner, 
in  spite  of  the  extreme  gentleness  of  his  tone,  and 
also  the  wonder  he  had  implied,  that  any  decent 
country  girl  should  brave  the  severity  of  so 
stormv  a  night,  and  unseen  in  the  darkness  she 
blushed  crimson  with  mortification,  and  bitterly 
lainented  her  senseless  whim  and  its  consequences. 
She  could  not  declare  herself.  She  had  been 
guilty  of  an  act,  indiscreet,  according  to  this 
man's  code,  in  the  ignorant  village  girl  for  whom 
he  had  mistaken  her.  Should  she  then  stop  by 
the  roadside,  withdraw  her  hand  from  his  arm, 
make  a  profound  courtesy  before  his  bandaged, 
unseeing  eyes,  and,  after  the  fashion  of  the  sultan 
in  the  Arabian  Nights,  throw  off  her  disguise,  and 
exclaim  in  a  melodramatic  manner,  "  Pause,  vain 
man !  Behold  in  me,  Miss  Laura  Doane,  a  person 
not  entirely  unknown  in  the  polite  circles  in 
which  you  move,  and  of  whom,  doubtless,  you 
have  frequently  heard"] 

No !  she  was  in  a  false  position,  but  she  had 
placed  herself  there  by  her  own  folly,  and  there 
must  she  i-emain  till  that  fatal  promenade  was 
over. 

After  leaving  the  village,  sidewalks  ceased  and 
their  path  lay  through  the  muddy  road.  Xo 
sound  was  heard  but  the  voice  of  the  storm,  until 
Mr.  Ogden,  who  had  apparently  been  forgetting 
his  companion's  very  existence,  said  kindly,  — 


ONE  SUMMER.  27 

"  I  hope  I  am  not  taking  you  too  far  out  of 
your  way.  This  road  is  hard  travelling  in  wet 
weather." 

"  It  is  not  too  far,"  she  answered  in  a  low  voice, 
and  with  a  twofold  meaning  of  which  he  was  un- 
conscious. She  was  actually  taking  grim  delight 
in  her  penance.  She  felt  that  the  tiresome  walk 
was  no  more  than  she  deserved  to  endure.  To 
his  mild  conversational  effort  she  responded  by  a 
brief  inquiry  as  to  the^  condition  of  his  eyes. 

"  Eyes  are  obstinate  things  when  hurt,"  he  said 
pleasantly.  "  Probably  1  sutler  more  from  this 
evening's  accident  on  account  of  their  previous 
weakness.  There  's  a  wretched  fatality  about 
sensitive  eyes.  Everything  is  certain  to  get  into 
them,  — -  cinders  in  the  cars  and  umbrellas  dark 
nights,  for  instance.  But  I  assure  you  they  are 
infinitely  less  painful  than  they  would  imve  been 
had  I  been  forced  to  expose  them  to  the  wind  and 
rain  and  grope  my  way  alone.  It  was  the  strain 
of  trving  to  keep  this  invalid  fellow  on  the  alert 
which  I  dreaded,  and  so  I  ventured  to  trouble 
you.  I  am  very  grateful  to  you  for  the  relief  your 
presence  affords  me." 

She  knew  that  he  must  be  still  suffering.  Evi- 
dently he  wTould  not  permit  the  rude  girl  who  had 
caused  the  injury  to  perceive  how  much  harm  she 
had  done.  That  was  generous  in  him  ;  yet  he 
spoiled  it  all  by  that  indefinable  tone  in  his  voice. 
It  was  not  condescension,  —  nothing  so  disagreea- 
ble as  that.  It  was  more  like  the  over-punctili- 
ousness with  which  one  remembers  to  thank  an 
inferior  who  does  one  a  service.  It  was  too  care- 


28  OXE  SUMMER. 

ful,  too  formal  for  equality,  and  it  piqued  her. 
She  did  not  therefore  feel  amiable,  and  she  made 
no  reply  to  his  acknowledgment. 

They  walked  on  in  silence,  and  soon  she  saw  a 
light  in  a  house  which  they  were  approaching.  It 
was  the  Holbrook  cottage.  All  the  lights  were 
out  except  this  one  at  a  chamber  window.  His 
room,  she  thought,  as  she  noticed  a  porcelain 
shade  softening  the  glare. 

They  reached  the  door  of  the  cottage.  She 
stopped.  He  quickly  pushed  up  the  bandage. 
"  Are  we  here  at  last  1 "  Then  as  he  glanced  up 
to  his  window,  he  gave  a  slight  exclamation  of 
pain.  "  I  beg  your  pardon,"  he  said,  "  the  lid 
seems  quite  helpless,  and  an  acute  pain  took  me 
unawares  as  I  looked  up."  She  turned  to  go. 
There  was  a  slight  awkward  silence;  then  her 
warm  heart  conquered  her  pride  and  pique. 

"  I  am  very  sorry.  I  hope  it  will  be  better 
soon."  She  spoke  in  a  low,  constrained  voice.  He 
said,  — 

"  Thank  you.  I  imagine  it  will  amount  to 
very  little."  Then  rapidly,  as  if  fearing  interrup- 
tion, "  You  have  done  me  a  great  service.  Do  not 
think  I  offer  this  in  payment,  only  perhaps  you 
know  of  a  book  or "  —  apparently  doubting  the 
intellectual  aspirations  of  his  guide  —  "a  little 
ribbon  you  may  fancy,  and  if  you  will  buy  it  in 
remembrance  of  my  gratitud"e,  you  will"  make 
me  still  more  indebted  to  you."  Putting  her 
umbrella  in  her  hand  and  with  it  a  bank-note, 
with  a  hasty  good-night,  he  opened  the  door, 
passed  in,  and  closed  it  again  before  the  girl  had 


ONE  SUMMER.  29 

recovered  from  the  overpowering  amazed  indigna- 
tion into  which  the  last  and  most  unexpected  turn 
of  affairs  had  plunged  her. 

Money  !  Had  he  dai'ed  give  her  money  ]  Insult- 
ing !  Incredible  !  She  could  have  screamed  with 
rage  and  humiliation.  She  never  once  thought  of 
dropping  it  where  she  stood.  After  the  first  parox- 
ysm of  hurt  and  angry  pride  had  passed,  she  held  it 
crushed  feverishly  in  her  hand,  and  accepting  it  as 
the  most  cruel  discipline  she  had  yet  undergone, 
the  crowning  torture  of  this  wretched  evening,  but 
in  no  way  to  be  escaped  from,  she  turned  from  the 
hateful  spot  and  started  towards  the  village. 

Her  walk  was  sadly  fatiguing.  The  excitement 
which  had  before  sustained  her  and  enabled  her  to 
struggle  gayly  with  the  storm  was  succeeded  by 
extreme  depression.  The  reaction  had  come.  The 
rumbling  of  distant  thunder  warned  her  to  hasten. 
The  condition  of  the  road,  her  weary  feet  and 
drenched  clothing,  made  her  progress  slow.  At 
last,  as  a  vivid  flash  of  lightning,  accompanied  by 
an  ominous  peal,  illumined  her  path,  she  reached 
the  house.  The  door  was  unfastened.  The  lamp 
still  stood  upon  the  parlor  mantel.  Cold,  almost 
exhausted,  enraged  with  herself,  and  bitterly  de- 
nouncing the  obtuseness  of  Mr.  Philip  Ogden,  she 
wearily  ascended  the  stairs  and  shut  herself  in  her 
room. 

She  removed  her  wet  clothing,  put  on  a  warm 
wrapper  and  slippers,  let  down  her  hair,  and  seated 
herself  in  a  low  rocking-chair  for  a  resume  of  the 
evening's  woes.  Her  present  physical  comfort  be- 
gan to  influence  her  views.  Things  did  not  look  so 


30  ONE  SUMMER. 

utterly  disgraceful  as  when  she  was  wandering, 
forlorn  and  fatigued,  out  in  the  black  night.  Ah, 
but  the  money !  How  it  had  burned  her  hand  all 
the  way  back !  She  rose  and  took  the  crumpled 
bill  from  her  dressing-table.  She  smoothed  it  out 
with  scrupulous  care.  She  examined  it  with  cyni- 
cal interest  on  both  sides.  She  turned  it  up  and 
down,  laid  it  upon  her  toilet-cushion,  then  pinned 
it  up  on  the  wall,  and  studied  the  eft'ect.  Two 
dollars  Mr.  Ogden  had  munificently  bestowed  upon 
her  in  token  of  his  grateful  appreciation  of  her  ser- 
vices. She  looked  in  the  little  mirror  with  a  sar- 
castic smile  that  said  :  "  Leigh  Doane,  you  have 
not  lived  in  vain.  You  have  turned  an  honest 
penny.  You  have  fairly  earned  two  dollars."  What 
should  she  do  with  it?  Keep  it  for  a  time  as  a 
reminder  of  the  Valley  of  Humiliation  through 
which  she  had  passed,  and  then  drop  it  in  the 
charity-box  at  the  church-door]  Yes,  that  would 
do.  She  laid  it  in  her  writing-desk  and  sat  down 
again  to  think. 

A  scene  from  one  of  Madame  d'Arblay's  novels 
flashed  into  her  head.  It  was  tha-t  thrilling  mo- 
ment in  "  Cecjlia  "  where  the  adoring  lover  finds 
himself  alone  with  his  charmer  in  a  storm.  The 
aristocratic  maiden  becomes  pallid,  imbecile,  and 
limp,  according  to  the  invariable  custom  of  the 
heroine  of  the  old-fashioned  romance,  when  the 
slightest  mental  or  physical  exertion  is  demanded 
of  her.  He  is  nearly  frantic  with  excess  of  emo- 
tion at  actually  being  in  the  presence  of  his  adored 
one,  with  no  lady's-maid,  companion,  or ,  stately 
duenna  to  protect  her  from  his  timorous  advances. 


ONE  SUMMER.  31 

The  storm  increases.  She  trembles  with  fear. 
Her  step  falters.  The  lover  observes  this  with 
exceeding  solicitude,  and  the  exigencies  of  the 
case  tempting  him  to  disregard  conventional  bar- 
riers, the  rash  impetuous  youth  ventures  upon  the 
unheard-of  familiarity  of  offering  his  arm  as  a  sup- 
port to  the  gentlest  and  most  inefficient  of  her  sex. 
Aware  that  the  license  of  his  conduct,  though  pal- 
liated by  the  unprecedented  circumstances,  was, 
nevertheless,  open  to  censure  in  its  departure  from 
the  code  of  etiquette  in  vogue  in  the  painfully 
rarefied  atmosphere  of  extremely  high  life,  yet 
quite  overcome  with  the  rapture  of  having  her 
finger-tips  resting  confidingly  upon  his  coat-sleeve, 
in  tones  of  subdued  ecstasy  he  exclaims,  "  Sweet, 
lovely  burden,  0,  why  not  thus  forever  !  " 

When  this  picture  of  the  astounding  difficulties 
attending  the  course  of  true  love  in  the  olden  time 
had  first  presented  itself  to  her,  it  had  been  a 
source  of  great  amusement.  Indeed,  many  novels, 
dear,  no  doubt,  to  her  grandmother,  were  wont  to 
convulse  her  with  irreverent  mirth.  Could  any- 
thing be  funnier  than  the  stilted  phraseology  of 
those  lovesick,  perplexed  swains,  and  the  laments 
of  the  lachrymose  heroines  who  wring  their  hands 
frantically  on  all  occasions,  and  evince  a  chronic 
incapacity  for  doing  anything  of  the  least  use  to 
any  human  being]  She  had  sometimes  congratu- 
lated herself  upon  being  commonplace  Leigh  Doane 
in  the  present  state  of  society,  instead  of  a  Sophro- 
nia  Belinda  Araminta  Clarissa  Mac  Ferguson  un- 
der the  old  regime.  But  never  had  the  contrast 
between  then  and  now,  between  the  lifeless  but 


32  ONE  SUMMER. 

highly  decorous  demeanor  of  the  model  girl  of  the 
past  "  period  "  and  the  extravagant  wilfulness  of 
her  own  conduct,  struck  her  so  forcibly.  Madame 
d'Arblay's  representation  of  maidenly  propriety, 
the  "ever-lovely  Miss  Beverly,"  had  nearly  fainted 
in  the  fiery  ordeal  of  walking  a  short  distance  with 
an  esteemed  gentleman  friend  in  broad  daylight. 
She,  on  the  contrary,  a  girl  most  carefully  reared 
according  to  modern  ideas,  had  manifested'  suffi- 
cient discreditable  vigor  to  nearly  annihilate  an 
unknown  man,  and  had  then  walked  by  his  side 
and  guided  his  steps  over  a  long,  rough  country- 
road,  in  intense  darkness  and  a  violent  storm. 
She  remembered  mild,  timid,  clinging  Cecilia,  and 
smiled.  She  thought  of  fearless,  self-confident 
Leigh,  and  groaned. 

Now  if  he  had  only  thrust  an  umbrella  into  her 
eye,  how  much  better  it  would  have  been  !  It  is 
woman's  province  to  suffer,  and  it  would  have  been 
the  most  natural  thing  in  the  world  for  her  to 
meet  with  an  accident ;  quite  romantic  had  she 
l>een  obliged  to  accept  the  escort  of  an  unknown 
gentleman,  who  would  eloquently  protest  that  he 
never  could  forgive  himself  for  his  awkwardness, 
and  who  would  prove  to  be  Tom's  old  friend. 
But  how  unnatural,  how  ridiculous,  for  her  to 
savagely  charge  at  him,  and  then  in  silence,  like 
•  a  bashful,  stupid  rustic,  take  the  wounded  man 
to  his  destination  !  The  former  case  would  have 
been  like  some  piquant  little  adventure  in  a  book. 
As  it  actually  happened,  it  was  grotesquely  trans- 
posed, and  all  wrong.  What  would  Bessie  say  1 
Tom  should  never  know.  He  would  tease  her  too 


OXE  SUMMER.  33 

unmercifully.  And  as  for  his  friend,  Mr.  Ogden, 
whose  mental  vision  must  be  as  blind  as  were  his 
outward  eyes,  she  would  never,  never  meet  him  if 
she  could  help  herself,  and  she  would  despise  him, 
upon  principle,  all  her  life.  "  My  good  girl  —  "  Here 
an  overwhelming  consciousness  of  the  utter  ludi- 
crousness  of  the  aftair  from  beginning  to  end  rushed 
over  her,  and  she  laughed  aloud.  Peal  after  peal 
of  nervous  hysterical  laughter  burst  from  her  lips, 
until  the  tears  rolled  down  her  cheeks.  Luckily 
Miss  Phipps  was  too  remote  to  be  roused  by  this 
untimely  merriment,  or  she  would  have  risen  in 
alarm,  fearing  for  the  sanity  of  her  young  guest. 
The  ebullition  proved  a  relief.  It  carried  away 
much  self-reproach  and  chagrin  from  the  girl's 
mind.  It  left  regret  and  some  humiliation,  but 
also  the  more  cheerful  tendency  to  look  upon  Mr. 
Ogden's  uncalled-for  generosity  as  an  enormous 
joke  rather  than  as  the  personal  insult  she  had 
been  inclined  to  consider  it,  and  she  laid  her  .head 
on  her  pillow  more  happily  than  she  would  have 
deemed  possible  an  hour  before.  But  immutability 
is  not  a  characteristic  of  one's  emotions  at  twenty. 
Her  experience  that  evening  had  been  a  varied  one, 
and  she  had  passed  through  a  thousand  phases  of 
feeling. 

Her  last  thought  as  she  closed  her  eyes  was, 
'' '  Perhaps  you  may  stumble  against  him  some- 
where,' —  0  you  wise,  prophetic  Tom !  " 


34  OXE  SUMMER. 


CHAPTER    III. 


"  He  would  have  passed  a  pleasant  life  of  it  in  despite  of  the  Devil 
snd  all  his  works,  if  his  path  had  not  been  crossed  by  a  being  that 
causes  more  perplexity  to  mortal  man  than  ghosts,  goblins,  and  the 
whole  race  of  witches  put  together,  and  that  was  — a  woman."-- 
WASHINGTON  IRVING. 


JHERE  are  eyes  and  eyes.  Popular  preju- 
dice leans  towards  fine  eyes  in  works  of 
fiction,  but  as  a  faithful  historian  this 
chronicler  must  dispassionately  state  that 
Philip  Ogden's  were  not  such  as  should  appertain 
to  the  hero  of  a  love-story.  They  did  not  glare 
fiercely  from  beneath  shaggy  brows,  like  those  mar- 
vellous deep-set  gray  ones  of  a  certain  school  of 
romance,  nor  were  they  in  the  habit  of  assuming 
a  cold  and  inscrutable  expression  to  the  world  at 
large,  and  then  "  melting  dangerously,"  whatever 
that  may  mean,  for  the  especial  delectation  of  one 
favored  mortal ;  neither  could  they  flash,  nor  bum, 
nor  frighten  people  with  a  steady  ominous  glow, 
nor,  in  short,  execute  any  feats  of  a  pyrotechnic  na- 
ture. At  their  best,  viewed  in  the  friendliest  light, 
they  were  ordinary  blue  eyes,  with  a  sufficiently 
sensible  and  agreeable  expression,  in  which,  perhaps, 
lurked  a  remote  suggestion  that  Mr.  Ogden  might 
not  need  to  have  the  point  of  a  joke  explained  to 
him.  It  may  also  be  said  that  they  were  extremely 
near-sighted,  and  apt  to  feel  weary  and  overworked 
unless  used  with  care.  As  they  were  not  likely  to 


ONE  SUMMER.  35 

recover  easily  from  violent  shocks,  it  is  evident 
that  Miss  Doane's  umbrella  made  an  injudicious 
selection  of  a  victim.  In  this  opinion  Mr.  Ogden 
would  no  doubt  have  fully  concurred. 

The  fair  summer  morning  stole  into  his  room 
and  found  him  sleeping  in  serene  unconsciousness 
of  coast-storms,  pugnacious  girls  with  umbrellas, 
his  disfigured  countenance,  and  all  sublunary  ills. 
But  the  crowing  and  quacking  and  lowing,  and 
the  other  noises  whose  distant  echoes  sound  so 
sweetly  in  pastoral  poems,  and  "  voices  of  men 
and  voices  of  maids,"  and  more  especially  the 
far-resounding  twang  of  the  mistress  of  the  farm 
mustering  her  forces,  conspired  to  rouse  him  at  an 
early  hour  from  his  blissful  ignorance.  With  the 
aid  of  a  hand-mirror  and  his  one  available  eye,  he 
examined  the  puffed-out,  angry-looking  cheek  and 
swollen,  closed  lid  which  marked  the  ravages  of  the 
destroyer. 

"  That  was  a  fell  swoop,  but  the  blow  was  ad- 
mirably aimed.  If  you  had  struck  higher  you 
would  have  put  out  my  eye  ;  lower,  you  would 
have  loosened  a  few  teeth.  You  punched  better 
than  you  knew,  my  fair  Phyllis." 

He  carefully  closed  every  blind  and  drew  every 
curtain,  shutting  out  the  "jocund  day,''  whose  ever- 
increasing  radiance  he  had  no  eyes  to  see  ;  and,  like 
a  boy  afraid  of  ghosts,  wrho  whistles  in  the  dark  to 
keep  up  his  courage,  he  hummed  the  cheerful  and 
appropriate  ditty, 

"  There  was  a  man  in  our  town, 

And  he  was  wondrous  wise ; 
He  jumped  into  a  bramble-bush, 
And  scratched  out  both  his  eyes," 


3G  OKE  SUMMER. 

as  he  renewed  his  bandages  and  placed  a  bottle 
of  arnica  —  which  he  regarded  as  his  only  friend 
—  at  a  convenient  distance  from  the  sofa  upon 
which  he  finally  threw  himself,  painfully  aware 
that  he  was  a  doomed  man  for  that  day,  and  for 
how  much  longer  he  knew  not. 

"  Time  and  arnica  make  a  powerful  combina- 
tion, and  will  heal  my  woes  as  they  have  healed 
worse  ones  before  now.  '  From  him  who  hath  not 
shall  be  taken  away  even  that  which  he  hath.' 
'  Grin  and  bear  it,'  is  sound  philosophy,  and  is,  after 
all,  only  Epictetus  condensed.  Grin,  I  may.  Bear 
it,  I  must.  Upon  the  whole,  I  think  I  will  grin." 
And  something  of  the  nature  of  a  smile  played 
about  his  distorted  features,  giving  him  a  sardonic 
and  unarniable  aspect  of  which  he  was  quite  un- 
conscious, and  quickly  followed  by  a  very  unphilo- 
sophical  yawn  and  sigh.  The  circumstances  were 
not  conducive  to  philosophy,  and  the  young  man 
did  not  feel  like  a  hero.  Things  looked  uncom- 
monly doleful.  He  was  not  sublime.  He  was 
not  pathetic.  He  was  simply  ridiculous,  and  he 
knew  it.  It  occurred  to  him  that  not  one  of  the 
grand  old  philosophers  could  have  posed  much  for 
future  generations,  situated  as  he  was.  "  Philos- 
ophy is  a  delusion  and  a  snare,"  he  thought.  "  It 
is  easier  to  write  sage  truths  and  be  stoical  on 
paper,  than  to  evince  much  grandeur  of  spirit 
lying  in  dressing-gown  and  slippers  on  a  hard  sofa 
in  a  commonplace  farm-house,  with  an  aching  head 
and  a  black  eye.  Now  I  might  summon  Jimmie 
up  here,  and,  folding  my  toga  solemnly  about  me, 
show  him  '  how  sublime  a  thing  it  is  to  suffer  and 


OXE  SUMMER.  37 

be  strong,'  but  Jim  has  nut  that  meek  and  lowly 
spirit  which  is  an  ornament  to  youth.  I  fancy 
my  visage  might  excite  unseemly  mirth  in  the 
little  rascal,  and  moral  maxims,  issuing  from 
arnica  bandages,  would  be  apt  to  lose  their 
potency.  How  in  the  name  of  all  that  is  won- 
derful did  the  girl  manage  to  do  so  much  mis- 
chief without  doing  morel"  he  asked  himself. 
"If  that  umbrella  —  may  the  foul  fiend  fly  away 
with  it !  —  had  had  a  pointed  end  —  Why, 
how  did  the  thing  end]  It  was  small,  light,  a 
lady's  umbrella.  Where  his  hand  had  rested 
there  was  a  cross.  He  now  remembered  feeling 
the  horizontal  piece  of  metal, — was  it  not?  It 
all  came  back  to  him  plainly.  A  pretty  little  um- 
brella, probably,  with  a  silver  cross  oil  it,  perhaps, 
and  some  sort  of  an  ornament  on  the  <5lher  end,  — 
which  was,  thank  Heaven,  blunt !  —  in  short,  an 
umbrella  such  as  city  girls  carry.  Odd  for  this 
girl  to  have  such  elegant  belongings.  Yet  life  is 
an  enigma.  Jane  Maria  Holbrook  went  to  the 
pasture  "to  call  the  cattle  home"  with  a  black 
lace  mask  veil  strapped  tight  over  her  sharp  nose. 
She  too,  poor  child,  has  aspirations ! 

At  this  moment  Jane  Maria  knocked  and  gig- 
gled at  the  door.  It  is  perhaps  superfluous  to 
say  she  giggled.  She  knocked,  is  sufficient.  The 
giggle  accompanied  and  followed  every  act  and 
speech  of  the  ingenuous  Jane  Maria.  She  was 
nineteen,  and  she  read  the  New  York  Ledger. 
Mr.  Ogden  was  not  an  Adonis,  under  the  most 
favorable  circumstances  :  but  Jane  Maria  thought 
him  "  perfickly  splendid,"  he  was  so  much  like 


38  ONE  SUMMER. 

Lord  Romaine  Cecil  Beresford  in  the  "  Haunted 
Homes  of  Hillsdale  ;  or,  The  Thrilling  Three."  Mr. 
Ogden  told  her  to  come  in,  and  the  girl  ventured 
to  open  the  door,  then  stood  in  real  distress  to 
see  the  man  so  like  her  favorite  hero  in  the  "  H. 
H.  of  H.,"  etc.,  lying  on  a  sofa  with  a  ghastly  white 
handkerchief  spread  over  his  aristocratic  features, 
and  revealing  to  her  troubled  gaze  only  a  portion 
of  that  noble  brow  which  was  the  counterpart  of 
Lord  R.  C.  B.'s  in  the  electrifying  romance  before 
mentioned.  Mr.  Ogden  spoke  in  his  usual  tone, 
thereby  dissipating  any  vague  fears  that  he  had 
been  cruelly  wounded  by  base  ruffians  while  wend- 
ing his  way  over  the  gloomy  health. 

"  Miss  Jennie,  I  ran  against  something  last  night, 
and  hurt  my  eve  a  little.  Please  tell  your  mother 
I  do  not  wish  any  breakfast,  and  that  I  have 
everything  I  need." 

Jane  Maria  was  a  silly  child,  no  doubt,  but  she 
had  a  good  heart,  and  she  was  very  sorry  to  see 
Lord  Romaine,  that  is,  Mr.  Ogden,  in  so  helpless 
a  condition,  and  she  did  not  believe  he  was  com- 
fortable, and  she  stood  swinging  the  door  and 
agitating  her  elbows  and  blushing  violently;  all 
of  which  Mr.  Ogden  knew  quite  as  well  as  if  his 
eyes  had  been  wide  open  and  fastened  upon  her. 
He  did  not  know,  however,  that  her  very  soul 
overflowed  with  gratitude  every  time  he  addressed 
her  as  "  Miss  Jennie,"  a  kindly  softening  of  the 
detested  Jane  Maria  which  he  had  chanced  upon 
only  because  "  Miss  Holbrook  "  failed,  he  had  dis- 
covered, to  distinguish  the  daughter  from  the 
mother. 


ONE  SUMMER.  39 

"  If    there    is   anything    I    could    do,    Mr.  — 
she  faltered,  almost  saying  Beresford,  and,  in  her 
confusion,  not  daring  to  attempt  Ogden. 

"  Nothing,  thank  you,  Miss  Jennie,  unless  "  - 
feeling   her   disappointment  —  "you-  would   have 
the  kindness  to  bring  me  some  fresh  water." 

She  left  him  and  soon  returned  with  the  water 
and  the  maternal  Holhrook,  who  came  up  with 
the  evident  intention  of  staying  an  hour  or  two 
and  learning  all  the  particulars  of  the  accident. 
It  required  the  exercise  of  much  tact  and  irresisti- 
ble gentleness  of  manner,  which  was  perhaps  his 
peculiar  charm,  to  undermine  the  curiosity  of  his 
hostess  and  baffle  her  cross-questioning  without 
giving  offence,  and  to  plead  a  nervous  headache 
and  increased  inflammation  of  his  eye  if  he  were 
not  left  in  perfect  quiet.  He  knew  enough  of 
Edgecomb  ways  to  feel  tolerably  certain  that  a 
plain  statement  of  the  facts  of  the  case  would  be 
more  than  sufficient  to  cause  the  circulation  of 
marvellous  fables  in  which  perhaps  would  figure 
a  legion  of  young  Amazons  armed  with  gigantic 
umbrellas,  and  there  would  be  nothing  whatever 
left  of  him.  Mrs.  Holbrook  went  down  to  her 
household  cares  hardly  realizing,  until  her  de- 
parture, that  she  had  gained  no  information  con- 
cerning Mr.  Ogden's  affairs,  and  then  formed  a 
theory  of  her  own,  that  her  "city  young  man" 
had  fallen  down  and  hurt  himself,  and  was 
ashamed  to  tell  of  it,  which  wise  conclusion  she 
boldly  advanced  as  an  historical  fact ;  while  poor 
little  freckled  Jane  Maria  went  about  in  a  dream 
all  day,  and  looked  upon  Lord  Ro  —  Mr.  Ogden's 


40  ONE  SUMMER. 

accident  as  a  beautiful  mystery  into  which  she 
could  not  and  would  not  penetrate. 

As  for  the  young  man  himself,  he  enjoyed  the 
encounter,  but  was  thankful  that  it  was  brief,  and, 
as  Mrs.  Holbrook  finally  twanged  out  her  adieus 
and  left  him  weak  yet  victorious,  he  applied  his 
arnica  and  water  with  a  placid  smile,  and  thought 
that  after  all  there  were  evils  in  life  worse  than 
a  bruised  eye  and  solitude.  Yet  the  woman  meant 
well.  She  was  shrewd  enough  too.  Considerable 
strategic  ability  was  necessary  to  turn  her  ques- 
tions out  of  their  course  without  letting  her  see 
what  he  was  doing.  "  She  probably  could  assist 
with  cool  nerve  and  steady  hand  at  the  amputa- 
tion of  a  man's  leg,  but  what  does  she  know  of 
the  aesthetics  of  a  sick-room?  She  would  drive 
one  into  a  nervous  fever,  with  her  questions,  her 
diabolical  voice,  and  her  heavy  step.  And  Jane 
Maria  too,  poor  girl,  how  she  giggles,  and  rattles 
the  door-knobs,  and  works  those  elbowTs  !  "  Thus 
he  mused  more  in  sorrow  than  in  anger.  He  had 
supposed  there  were  some  things  which  all  women 
knew  by  intuition.  That  refinement,  training, 
were  non-essentials  in  a  sick-room,  that  the  wo- 
manly heart  was  the  one  thing  needful.  Well,  it 
was  only  another  lost  illusion.  Holbrook,  mere, 
might  have  a  womanly  heart.  He  certainly  knew 
nothing  to  the  contrary.  But  she  could  never  be 
anything  but  elephantine.  He  was  inclined  to 
believe  too  that  little  Jennie  could  never  learn 
to  pour  water  without  deluging  everything;  still, 
she  was  young  and  might  admit  of  reform. 

Through  the  long  day  he  lay  dozing,  thinking, 


ONE  SUMMER.  41 

smoking,  listening  to  the  busy  sounds  from  below, 
occasionally  pacing  up  and  down  his  room,  but  re- 
turning gladly  enough  to  his  couch,  finding  more 
relief  there  than  elsewhere.  He  was  a  man  who 
knew  little  of  what  he  had  called  the  aesthetics  of 
a  sick-room,  except  from  vague  recollections  of  his 
childhood  and  from  theory;  but,  falling  towards  the 
close  of  the  day  into  a  mildly  sentimental  revery, 
he  fancied  that  it  might  be  an  agreeable  sensation 
to  have  soft  hands  quietly,  and  unsolicited,  mois- 
ten his  bandage  when  the  fever  in  his  face  heated 
it ;  that  a  favorite  poem  or  attractive  essay,  read 
with  the  sweet  and  appreciative  intonation  which 
would  unquestionably  be  a  special  charm  of  that 
"  not  impossible  she,"  would  be  not  only  an  in- 
describable relief  to  the  monotony  of  such  a  day, 
but  a  blessing  for  which  he  thought  he  should  know 
how  to  be  sufficiently  grateful.  Yes,  his  ideal 
woman  would  have  all  the  graces  of  the  art  of 
ministering.  Her  boots  would  never  creak.  Her 
dress '  would  never  rustle.  She  would  not  annoy 
him  with  a  perennial  giggle,  nor  shake  the  rafters 
vvith  her  massive  tread.  She  would,  in  short,  he 
concluded,  disgusted  with  his  own  poor  perform- 
ance of  the  role  of  sister  of  mercy,  be  a  perfect 
woman  nobly  planned  to  administer  cool  bandages 
with  skill  and  despatch,  and  without  sending  rivu- 
lets to  penetrate  his  left  ear,  as  he  was  then  doing. 
How  would  the  mingled  fumes  of  arnica  and  an 
unlimited  number  of  cigars  impress  this  paragon 
whom  he  was  in  imagination  introducing  into  his 
apartment,  he  wondered,  as  he  ventured,  now  that 
the  sun  had  almost  set,  to  throw  open  the  blkjds 


42  OXE  SUMMER. 

of  an  east  window.  She  would  manage  in  *>ome 
way  to  make  things  pleasanter,  no  doubt.  Girls 
knew  how,  he  supposed.  She  might  sprinkle  eau- 
de-cologne  on  his  pillow  and  about  the  room,  per- 
haps. A  man  would  not  think  of  coddling  himself, 
but  he  was  not  sure  that  he  might  not  like  that  sort 
of  thing  well  enough  if  it  were  done  for  "him,  he  ad- 
mitted with  that  gracious  condescension  men  some- 
times evince  towards  ways  essentially  feminine. 
At  all  events,  he  could  testify  that  the  room  was 
unpleasantly  close,  and  the  smell  of  arnica  inhaled 
steadily  for  more  than  a  dozen  hours  an  unmit- 
igated bore.  Where  was  it  lately  he  had  noticed 
an  especially  delicate  perfume  1  Not  last  night, 
was  it  ?  Ah,  yes !  He  recalled  the  circumstance 
now.  It  was  when  that  shy  damsel  was  tying  the 
handkerchief  for  him,  and  again  as  he  stood  near 
her  a  moment  down  at  the  door.  He  reflected, 
smilingly,  that  he  had  felt  savage,  infuriated,  like 
any  other  wounded  animal  he  supposed,  conse- 
quently in  no  mood  to  appreciate  perfumes;  were 
they  wafted  from  Araby  the  Blest,  or  to  speculate 
upon  evidences  of  refinement  in  an  Edgecomb  belle ; 
but  it  struck  him  now,  lying  smoking  and  musing 
at  his  leisure,  as  singularly  incongruous  that  she 
should  fancy  a  faint,  delicious  odor.  Now  if  it  had 
been  musk,  — double  extract  of  musk,  — Jane  Ma- 
ria would  like  that,  he  was  sure.  Was  it  violet  1 
Of  that  he  could  not  be  quite  certain.  But  whether 
it  floated  from  her  hair,  from  glove  or  ribbon,  some- 
thing dainty  and  lady-like  there  had  been,  he  was 
positive.  And  —  starting  up  suddenly  —  was  he  a 
fool  that  he  had  not  thought  of  it  before  1 —  she 


ONE  SUMMER.  43 

walked  like  a  lady.  He  had  escorted  Jane  Maria 
to  "meetin"'  one  evening.  She  had  taken  his  arm 
as  if  it  were  a  remote  and  dreaded  contingency. 
This  girl,  on  the  contrary,  had  accepted  it  as  an  arm 
simply,  and  leaning  slightly  upon  it,  had  moved  in 
spite  of  wind  and  rain,  and  the  poor  condition  of 
the  road,  with  the  elasticity  and  firmness  of  a  per- 
son whose  feet  are  used  to  city  pavements,  and 
whose  mind  is  used  to  the  friction  of  city  life.  Her 
gait  was  a  forcible  contrast  to  the  slow,  heavy,  aim- 
less step,  prevalent,  he  had  observed  with  surprise,  in 
Edgecomb.  For  where  should  one  look  for  health 
and  energy,  if  not  among  country  girls  1  he  won- 
deringly  asked  himself.  Yet  the  rapid,  vigorous 
step  the  fresh  color  which  he  would  have  frequent 
occasion  to  admire,  a  cool,  clear  day,  on  any  pleas- 
ant avenue  in  a  city,  he  had  not  once  seen  in  this 
breezy  village,  where  the  air  was  so  pure  and  invig- 
orating it  was  almost  enough  to  make  the  lame 
walk.  To  which  class,  then,  did  she  belong,  this 
mysterious  escort  with  the  erect,  spirited  carriage, 
the  mystical,  faint  fragrance,  the  gloved  hands,  the 
elegant  though  vicious  umbrella,  and  the  accent,  — 
yes,  unquestionably,  the  accent  of  a  lady  1  Although 
her  words  were  few,  any  man  not  an  egregious  dolt 
would  have  observed,  in  spite  of  personal  discom- 
fort, her  manner  of  speaking.  How,  then,  did  she 
happen  to  be  out  1  That  was  not  his  affair,  cer- 
tainly. She  must  have  thought  his  coolness  sa- 
tanic.  Gave  her  some  money  too  !  H'm  !  And 
he  lay  back  on  his  sofa  in  mute,  inglorious  despair, 
for  the  consciousness  that  the  girl  was  a  lady  had 
burst  upon  him  like  a  revelation,  with  overwhelm- 


44  ONE  SUMMER. 

ing  force.  He  could  not  doubt  it.  His  conviction  now 
was  as  strong  as  bis  utter  obliviousness  had  been 
before.  He  muttered  a  few  energetic  imprecations 
upon  his  selfish  stupidity,  but  was  nevertheless  in- 
tensely amused  at  the  unconscionable  aspect  of 
affairs. 

A  woman  !  A  woman,  of  course,  or  all  would 
yet  be  well !  A  man  would  have  defined  his  posi- 
tion at  once  in  some  way.  A  man  would  have 
declined  taking  the  extra  walk,  or  he  would  have 
taken  it  as  a  friend  in  need,  or  he  would  have  gone 
with  the  hope  of  reward,  had  he  belonged  to  the 
class  that  pockets  fees.  In  either  event  there 
would  be  no  more  trouble.  But  now  !  No  more 
free  enjoyment  of  the  lavish  summer  for  him  !  No 
more  lying  about  lazily,  yet  with  a  clear  conscience, 
feeling  that  it  is  "  enough  for "  him  "  that  the 
leaves  are  green,"  and  "  that  skies  are  clear  and 
grass  is  growing."  Ah,  what  a  huge  humble  pie 
it  would  soon  be  his  doom  to  swallow  ! 

I  must  find  her  and  ask  her  pardon  on  my  knees  ; 
but  what  is  an  apology,  after  dragging  her  a  couple 
of  miles  and  paying  her  like  a  coachman  1  My  mis- 
sion in  Edgecomb  is  revealed,  at  all  events.  For- 
tunately, in  this  communicative  hamlet,  it  will  not 
be  difficult  to  ascertain  who  she  is  and  where  she 
is  staying.  "  It  is  curious,"  he  said  aloud,  and 
with  great  deliberation  and  emphasis,  "  how  com- 
pletely a  man  will  sometimes  stultify  himself ! 
Blind,  imbecile  coxcomb  !  " 


ONE  SUMMER.  45 


CHAPTER    IV. 


"  The  prudent  penning  of  a  letter." 

EDGECOMB,  Friday,  July  6,  18 — . 
SWEETEST,  my  sister,  was  it  for  this  I 
toiled  and  suffered  ?  Was  it  for  this  I  turned 
Miss  Phipps's  theories  and  rooms  topsy-turvy, 
and  hammered  my  fingers,  and  tore  the  trim- 
ming off  my  sleeve  1  The  talent  I  have  displayed  as 
an  upholsterer  and  general  decorator  is  surprising, 
and  my  acrobatic  feats,  if  I  may  so  classify  balancing 
myself  upon  chair-backs  and  certain  inevitable  results 
which  might  reasonably  be  called  "  lofty  tumbling," 
truly  admirable  in  an  inexperienced  performer.  And 
if  you  could  have  the  faintest  idea  of  what  I  have 
been  able  to  accomplish  with  that  commonplace  and 
insignificant  thing,  an  umbrella,  you  and  Tom  would 
be  perfectly  amazed.  But,  as  the  books  say,  "  we  an- 
ticipate." 

Bessie,  it  grieves  me  to  the  heart  to  think  that  before 
you  come  the  first  bloom  will  have  vanished  from  my 
triumph  of  art,  the  great  high -backed  chair  upon  which 
I  have  nearly  exhausted  my  genius  and  my  chintz. 
Yesterday  afternoon  I  drew,  it  up  to  a  window  where 
one  looks  out  on  a  charming  little  picture  framed  by 
the  branches  of  two  beautiful  elms  that  stand  near  the 
house,  —  the  pretty,  sloping  common,  and  old,  old  sun- 
dial in  its  centre,  and  its  other  edge  bordered  by  elms, 
and  behind  them  a  row  of  quaint  cottages,  beyond,  a 
glimpse  of  the  river,  and  still  beyond,  the  hills  with 
their  lovely,  changing  lights.  In  a  few  moments  you 
would  be  there.  Everything  did  look  so  pretty,  Bessie. 


46  OXE  SUMMER. 

I  turned  on  the  threshold  to  give  a  parting  glance  into 
your  room  before  I  went  down  to  the  door  to  wait  for 
the  stage.  A  light  breeze  just  rustled  the  fresh  chintz 
curtains,  gently  shaking  their  pretty,  pale  blue  morn- 
ing-glories and  humming-birds,  and  carried  through 
the  room  a  faint  fragrance  of  mignonette  and  pansies, 
and  there  was  the  dear  old  chair  waiting  to  receive  you, 
rnd  looking  positively  expectant.  It  really  has  a  great 
deal  of  expression,  and  it  had  such  an  inviting,  hospita- 
ble air,  such  a  benevolent  and  expansive  smile,  that 
I  had  to  give  it  a  little  pat  of  approval  every  time  I 
went  near  it.  Everything  was  ready,  and  I  was  so 
happy,  and  was  fancying  how  delightful  it  would  be 
to  usher  you  up  to  your  nest,  and,  pointing  to  the  cur- 
tains and  toilet-table  and  the  various  things  I  had 
prepared  for  your  comfort  and  pleasure,  modestly,  yet 
with  pardonable  pride,  say,  "  These  are  my  jewels." 
Just  then  I  heard  the  stage.  Out  of  the  house  I 
"  flung,"  —  why  may  I  not  say  it  if  Robert  Browning 
does  ?  —  I  stood  at  the  gate  and  watched  that  ancient 
vehicle  toil  up  the  hill.  Imagine  my  distracted  state 
of  mind  when  it  actually  went  lumbering  by.  I  could 
not  believe  my  eyes.  No  Bessie,  no  baby,  no  Tom ! 
Like  that  pathetic  "  dove  on  the  mast  as  we  sailed  fast," 
I  did  "  mourn,  and  mourn,  and  mourn."  With  a  deso- 
late, moated-grange  sensation,  I  turned  and  went  into 
the  house.  At  the  door  stood  Miss  Phipps,  eying  me 
curiously. 

"  Oh  !  yer  folks  did  n't  arrive,  did  they  ?  Oh !  " 
I  replied  with  some  dignity,  and  a  huge  lump  in  my 
throat,  that  something  apparently  had  detained  my 
friends.  I  passed  up  stairs.  What  a  change  in  those 
few  moments!  The  sky  had  grown  cloudy.  The 
breeze  was  chilly  and  damp.  The  distant  hills  looked 
cold  and  gray.  The  curtains  suggested  the  A-anity  of 
all  human  hopes.  The  chair  stood  a  great  clumsy, 
melancholy  monument  to  the  transitory  nature  of 
happiness. 


ONE  SUMMER.  47 

For  an  individual  who  has  always  professed  to  doubt 
the  efficacy  of  tears,  I  had  a  singularly  strong  inclina- 
tion to  cry.  The  disappointment  was  so  sudden,  so 
bewildering,  you  see.  i  could  not  stay  up  there.  I 
grew  too  homesick.  I  closed  the  windows  and  door 
and  wandered  about  drearily,  and  then  1  sat  down  in 
the  porch,  watching  the  clouds  gathering  fast,  and 
waited  there  "  exceeding  comfortless "  until  a  small 
boy  for  whose  trustworthiness  Miss  Phipps  vouches, 
and  whom.  I  have  engaged  to  bring  my  letters,  ap- 
peared with  Tom's  document,  and  I  learned  my  fate. 
.Al}  Mercury,  otherwise  Jimmie  Holbrook,  seated  him- 
self on  the  fence,  whistled  "  Shoo  Fly,"  swung  his  feet 
vigorously,  and  stared  at  me  intently  as  I  opened  my 
letter.  I  glanced  up,  and  said  solemnly,  — 

"  That  will  do,  James.  I  do  not  want  you  any 
longer." 

Could  any  one  have  received  a  more  direct  dismissal  ? 
You  imagine  that  he  at  once  retreated  respectfully  from 
the  presence,  do  you  / 

Ou  the  contrary,  he  smiled  in  an  imperturbable  man- 
ner, and  responded  cheerfully,  — 

"  Well,  you  ain't  likely  to  have  me  any  shorter. 
Fences  is  free,  and  I  like  yer  looks !  " 

This  astounding  declaration  silenced  me.  Reflecting 
that  Jimmie  probably  had  not  a  judicious  mamma, 
and  feeling  rather  grateful  to  the  child  for  diverting 
me  in  my  sadness  by  his  good-humored  impudence,  I 
read  and  reread  Tom's  letter  and  yours,  and  meditated 
gloomily  until  the  "  silent  mist  came  up  and  hid  the 
land,"  and  the  air  grew  more  damp  and  more  salt  every 
moment,  and  finally  down  came  the  rain.  Down  also 
came  that  terrible  child  from  his  post  of  observation. 
He  responded  to  my  "  Good  night,  Jimmie,"  with 
singularly  explosive  shrieks  and  uncouth  pirouettes, 
and  started  off  in  a  rapid  and  impish  manner  for  his 
home.  And  I  went  in  to  my  lonely  supper,  a  cold, 
forlorn,  homesick,  wretched  girl. 


48  ONE  SUMMER. 

And  afterwards  —  0  Bessie,  I  could  a  tale  unfold  >. 
But  I  will  not,  because  you  have  a  Tom  who  hears  all 
your  secrets.  If  I  disgrace  the  family  while  I  stay 
here,  remember  it  will  be  his  fault,  for  he  left  me.  Do 
not  be  alarmed.  Phipps  and  I  have  not  come  to  blows 
yet,  though  what  may  result  from  my  sojourn  remains 
to  be  seen.  I  have  certainly  developed  some  hitherto 
latent  traits,  or  "  tricks  and  manners,"  perhaps  I  should 
say,  and  it  is  impossible  to  tell  where  I  shall  stop. 
There  is  a  room  here  that  is  positively  maddening  if 
you  stay  in  it  long  enough,  and  there  are  electrical 
currents  in  the  Edgecomb  atmosphere  that  make 
"  gleams  and  glooms "  dart  across  one's  brain  in  an 
inexplicable  way,  and  my  conduct  has  been  most 
strikingly  original,  —  wherein  lies  a  pointed  joke,  and 
yet  no  joke. 

As  you  must  see,  there  is  a  burden  on  my  conscience. 
I  shall  never  rest  until  I  make  my  confession.  But 
not  to-day.  It  is  too  soon,  and  then,  there 's  Tom. 

It  is  a  glorious  morning.  You  will  enjoy  the  air 
here  so  much,  and  the  views,  which  are  charming  in 
every  direction.  I  am  going  out  directly  to  mail  my 
voluminous  letter,  and  to  discover  the  pleasantest  walks 
in  this  pretty  neighborhood.  I  have  resolved  to  be 
as  cheerful  as  circumstances  will  permit.  I  am  not 
yet  "reconciled,"  but  have  recovered  from  the  first 
crushing  effects  of  my  grief.  I  am  "  beginning  to  take 
notice,"  as  some  one  said  about  our  friend  the  pretty 
widow.  Something  has  partly  turned  my  attention 
from  my  disappointment,  and  set  my  thoughts  running 
in  curious  channels.  My  secret  is  on  the  tip  of  my 
pen,  and  dying  to  drop  off.  To-morrow,  perhaps  I  will 
disclose  my  guilt  in  its  enormity.  Bessie,  of  course  I 
have  done  nothing  darkly  and  desperately  wicked,  but 
do  come  quickly.  I  am  not  so  reliable  as  I  thought  I 
was.  Tom's  confidence  in  what  he  is  pleased  to  call 
my  " clear  little  head  "  is  sadly  misplaced.  Everybody 
has  been  mistaken  in  me  always. 


ONE  SUMMER.  49 

Have  I  told  you  what  a  furious  storm  there  was 
last  night  1  It  made  a  greater  impression  on  me  than 
ever  a  storm  did  before,  and  I  am  not  the  only  person 
in  Edgecomb  who  has  reason  to  remember  it. 

Grow  strong  very,  very  fast,  kiss  baby  for  me,  and 
make  Tom  bring  you  soon  to  Edgecomb  and 
Your  loving 

LEIGH. 

Accompanying  this  epistle  was  the  following  :  — 

Thanks  for  your  letter,  my  dear  Tom,  and  I  may 
eventually  thank  you  for  allowing  your  "  business  com- 
plications "  to  detain  you,  but  I  must  confess  I  do  not 
feel  grateful  yet.  There  is,  I  suppose,  a  law  of  com- 
pensation, and  no  loss  without  some  gain,  they  say, 
and  Edgecomb  may  have  something  beautiful  in 
store  for  me,  but  it  has  not  begun  well.  Do  hurry, 
Tom  ;  that 's  a  dear  boy.  Never  mind  business.  And, 
Tom,  you  need  not  give  yourself  the  trouble  to  hunt 
up  that  friend  of  yours,  that  Mr.  Ogden,  and  send  him 
to  call  upon  me.  I  do  not  think  I  would  like  him. 
I  know  I  should  not.  I  am  convinced  he  is  "  exactly 
the  style  of  man"  I  always  heartily  dislike.  Please 
don't,  Tom ! 


50  ONE  SUMMER. 


CHAPTER  V. 

"You  lazy,  not  very  clean,  good-for-nothing,  sensible  boy!"  — 
THACKERAY. 

rHE  umbrella  catastrophe  enforced  upon 
Mr.  Ogden  a  week's  seclusion,  in  which 
the  stupidity  of  one  day  differed  but 
slightly  from  the  stupidity  of  another. 
An  avalanche  of  questions  fro  en  Mrs.  Holbrook, 
concerning  the  smallest  details  of  his  previous 
history  as  well  as  his  intentions  for  the  future, 
threatened  daily  to  overwhelm  him,  but,  thanks 
to  his  mental  agilitv,  he  escaped.  He  gradually 
learned  to  consider  each  contest  with  her  a  matu- 
tinal tonic,  unpleasant  but  strengthening.  Before 
her  advent  he  fortified  himself.  He  studied  an 
unsatisfactory  and  mystifying  style  of  conversa- 
tion. He  intrenched  himself  behind  the  longest 
words  in  his  vocabulary,  and  when  they  failed  he 
did  not  hesitate  to  coin  longer  ones.  The  sub- 
terfuges to  which  he  resorted  in  order  to  shorten 
her  visits  were  invented  with  rapidity  and  ease, 
and  displayed  a  neatness  of  execution  upon  which 
he  congratulated  himself,  being  but  a  novice  in 
the  art  of  finessing. 

Upon  one  occasion,  when  Mrs.  Holbrook  entered 
his  room,  she  found  him  lying  with  a  handkerchief 
over  his  face,  his  hands  clasped  peacefully  on  his 
breast,  while  his  gentle,  regular  respiration,  placid 


ONE  SUM AI Eli.  51 

as  that  of  a  sleeping  infant,  pleaded  eloquently  in 
his  behalf.  Her  step  became  no  lighter,  her  voice 
no  less  harsh  and  discordant  out  of  consideration 
for  the  invalid's  nap,  and  Jane  Maria  as  usual 
convulsively  played  her  Rondo  Capriccioso  upon 
the  door-knob,  but  nothing  apparently  could  dis- 
turb that  beautiful  repose.  Though  this  artifice 
routed  the  enemy,  Mr.  Ogden  felt  that  a  repeti- 
tion of  it  might  create  suspicion  in  the  least  astute 
mind,  since  Mrs.  Holbrook's  colossal  presence 
would  have  awakened  the  Seven  Sleepers ;  "  and 
then,"  he  thought,  "  a  man  who  from  the  nature 
of  his  position  idly  dozes  through  a  good  deal  of 
the  day  and  who  has  openly  confessed  to  his  tor- 
mentors that  he  habitually  sleeps  well  nights,  can- 
not reasonably  be  at  it  again  at  eight  o'clock  in 
the  morning.  There  's  a  limit  to  all  things."  He 
forbore,  and  developed  other  resources. 

Once  he  greeted  her  with  rambling,  incoherent 
words  and  confused  utterance.  He  endeavored  to 
arrive  at  a  golden  mean  between  delirium  and 
idiocy.  In  this  temporary  derangement  of  the 
intellect,  he  did  not  aim  at  wildness  that  would 
alarm  her,  and  cause  her  to  summon  her  husband 
and  the  laborers,  the  long  sweep  of  whose  scythes 
he  could  hear  near  the  house.  Hopeless,  impene- 
trable dulness,  absolute  incapacity  to  receive  or 
impart  ideas,  was  his  artistic  design.  This  he  at 
first  regarded  as  magnificent  strategy,  and  decided- 
ly his  best  effort,  but  modified  his  views  when,  to 
his  horror,  she  came  again  that  day.  His  faculties 
were  so  benumbed  by  her  unexpected  appearance, 
that,  had  she  but  appreciated  her  advantage  and 


52  ONE  SUMMER. 

pursued  it  skilfully,  it  is  probable  that  he  would 
have  told  her  everything  he  knew.  He  blessed 
the  unknown  voice  which  called  her  down  to  her 
own  domain,  and  realizing  that  this  time  fate,  and 
not,  as  before,  his  own  exertions,  had  extricated  him 
from  his  danger,  consoled  himself  with  the  reflec- 
tion that  there  must  be  one  unguarded  moment  in 
the  life  of  the  craftiest  diplomatist. 

These  trials  of  skill  were  somewhat  enlivening. 
He  also  derived  a  mild  excitement  from  obsei'ving 
the  new  and  startling  hues  which  the  variegated 
cheek  assumed  as  his  swollen  face  gradually  re- 
gained its  natural  outline,  and  the  endangered  eye 
feebly  yet  gladly  beheld  again  the  light  of  day. 

Jane  Maria  blissfully  served  her  wounded 
knight's  repasts,  and  evinced  a  sincere  though 
tremulous  desire  to  do  all  in  her  power  for  his 
comfort.  One  morning,  when  she  inquired,  as 
usual,  if  he  wished  anything  more,  he  abandoned 
his  formula,  "  Nothing,  thank  you,  Miss  Jennie," 
and  surprised  her  by  saying  he  thought  he  should 
enjoy  a  call  from  Jim,  if  the  boy  did  not  object. 
Why  any  person,  not  forced  to  submit  to  the  in- 
fliction of  her  mischievous  brother's  presence, 
should  deliberately  seek  it,  was  beyond  her  com- 
prehension ;  but  Mr.  Ogden's  slightest  wish  was 
law  to  this  adoring  soul,  and  inwardly  responding, 
"I  fly,  my  lord,  to  execute  thy  mandate,"  she  went 
to  find  Jimmie. 

Some  time  elapsed  before  he  appeared.  He  had 
.first  to  be  discovered.  This  the  loyal  Jane  ac- 
complished after  a  vigorous  search  in  his  most 
frequented  haunts,  and  Jimmie  was  torn  with  a 


ONE  SUMMER.  53 

ruthless  hand  from  the  innocent  pastime  of  trying 
to  induce  two  superannuated  roosters  to  pick  out 
.each  other's  eyes,  and  was  half  dragged,  half  coaxed 
into  the  house.  Here  Jane  Maria  resigned  the 
command,  and  the  child,  thanks  to  his  mother's 
efficient  generalship,  after  a  sound  of  scuffling  at 
the  foot  of  the  stairs  and  other  indications  of  a 
family  jar,  finally  presented  himself  before  Mr. 
Ogden. 

It  was  evident  that  the  pi'ospect  of  a  tete-ci-tete 
with  the  invalid,  in  what  he  had  a  moment  before 
distinctly  and  turbulently  called  "that  darn  poky 
old  room,"  was  not  alluring  to  Jimmie. 

Mr.  Ogden  appreciated  the  boy's  feelings,  and 
did  not  wonder  at  the  somewhat  morose  aspect  of 
his  young  visitor. 

"Ah,  Jimmie,  is  that  you1?    How  are  you  to-day  1" 

"  Well  enough,"  was  the  brief  response. 

"  Sit  down,  won't  you  1 " 

"  Can't  stop.  Ain't  got  time,"  the  child  replied, 
with  an  uncompromising  air.  His  terse  style  of 
conversation  was  a  refreshing  contrast  to  Mrs.  Hoi- 
brook's  volubility.  Mr.  Ogden  had  certain  pro- 
found reasons  for  desiring  to  propitiate  Jimmie. 
Ignoring  the  boy's  dogged  manner,  he  said  care- 
lessly, — 

"  Any  candy-shops  in  Edgecomb  ]" 

"  Rather  !  "  Jimmie  replied  with  emphasis. 

"Jim,  do  you  like  taffy1?"  was  the  next  signifi- 
cant inquiry. 

"  You  bet !  " 

Here  a  silent  transfer  occurred. 

Jimmie  pocketed  the   "  filthy  palimpsest "   with 


54  ONE  SUMMER. 

a  very  slight  increase  of  cheerfulness.  His  was  not 
one  of  those  base  natures  with  which  money  is  all- 
powerful.  He  still  sighed  for  his  freedom,  for  his. 
roosters.  He  was  mollified,  not  completely  sub- 
dued. Mr.  Ogden,  observing  this,  played  his  high- 
est trump.  Removing  the  damp  cloth  which  he 
still  wore  Upon  his  face,  he  said,  — 

"  What  do  you  think  of  that  for  a  black  eye, 
Jimmie  1 " 

Liveliest  interest  was  instantly  depicted  on  the 
child's  countenance,  as  he  eagerly  asked,  — 

"  Who  did  yer  fight  1     Did  yer  lick  him  ]  " 

Here  was  a  dilemma.  But  Mr.  Ogden  could 
not  afford  to  lose  the  point  he  had  gained.  With 
Machiavelian  policy,  he  solemnly  remarked,  — 

"  Jimmie,  I  always  lick  when  I  fight." 

"  Do  yer,  though  1  Honest  ]  Let  's  feel  yer 
muscle." 

WTith  much  inward  amusement,  but  with  a  per- 
fectly grave  face,  Mr.  Ogden  submitted  his  arm  to 
the  critical  examination  of  his  young  visitor,  who 
manipulated  his  biceps  with  the  air  of  a  connoisseur, 
and  admiringly  expressed  unqualified  approval. 

"  Reggler  stunners,  ain't  they  1 " 

Jimmie  was  won. 

From  that  moment  he  was 

"  Rapt 

By  all  the  sweet  and  sudden  passion  of  youth 
Towards  greatness  in  its  elder," 

and  looked  upon  Mr.  Ogden  as  Lavaine  upon 
Launcelot  with  that 

"  Reverence, 
Dearer  to  true  young  hearts  than  their  own  praise," 


ONE  SUMMER.  55 

or,  to  descend  abruptly  from  Tennysonian  heights 
to  Jimmie's  level,  and  use  a  comparison  within  his 
grasp,  Mr.  Ogden  became  as  glorious  in  his  eyes  as 
a  champion  prize-fighter,  and  the  boy  went  freely 
in  and  out  of  the  room  during  the  two  remaining 
days  of  the  captivity,  with  a  glad  conviction  that 
he  had  found  something  more  precious  than 
roosters. 

Mr.  Ogden  promised  to  tell  Jimmie  some  time 
how  he  had  received  the  bruise.  Just  now  he 
wished  "  nothing  said  about  it."  Jimmie  gave  a 
knowing  wink,  and  unhesitatingly  swore  secrecy. 

Then,  not  only  to  advance  his  own  interests,  be- 
cause Jimmie  himself  was  a  safer  person  to  cate- 
chise than  any  of  Jimmie's  kinsfolk,  but  because 
he  found  the  child's  bright  face  and  sturdy,  honest 
ways  attractive,  Mr.  Ogden  became  fascinating  in 
the  extreme,  by  asking  about  trout-streams,  and 
how  far  out  they  had  to  go  for  mackerel,  and  by 
talking  of  wherries,  of  the  impending  circus,  of 
bird's-eggs,  and  finally  he  approached  the  impor- 
tant and  long-delayed  topic. 

"  Are  there  many  strangers  in  Edgecomb  this 
summer,  Jimmie?" 

"  Well,  there  's  you,"  said  the  boy,  "  and  there  's 
some  folks  down  to  the  tavern,  and  there  's  my 
girl,  and  that  's  about  all  there  is  now,  I  guess. 
Sometimes  there  's  more." 

"  And  who  might  your  girl  be  ?  " 

"  Why,  the  one  I  take  letters  to,"  said  Jim,  draw- 
ing himself  up  with  dignity.  "  She  gits  a  heap. 
She 's  had  four,  and  she  ain't  been  here  two  weeks 
yet." 


56  ONE  SUMMER. 

"  Then  you  know  her  name,  of  course  1 " 

"Once  it  was  Miss  L.  L.  Doane,  and  twice  it 
was  Miss  Doane,  and  the  last  time  it  was  Miss 
Laura  Leigh  Doane."  . 

"  Doane,  —  Doane,"  thought  Mr.  Ogden.  "  Who 
was  it  married  a  Miss  Doane  while  I  wras  abroad  ] 
If  I  am  not  mistaken  it  was  Otis.  But  it  may  not 
be  the  same  family.  Nor  Jim's  young  lady,  my 
young  lady." 

Jimmie  went  on,  — 

"  She  's  to  ole  Miss  Phippses,  yer  know.  Her 
folks  was  a-comin',  but  they  ain't  come  yet. 
She  's  mighty  anxious  to  get  hold  of  her  letters. 
Ain't  she  spry,  though,  about  pullin'  'em  open  an' 
readin'  'em  quick  !  " 

Mr.  Ogden,  having  passed  some  weeks  in  Edge- 
comb,  could  appreciate  Miss  Doane's  eagerness  to 
hear  from  her  friends.  It  was  however  yet  to  be 
proven  if  it  were  she  who  had  made  upon  him  so 
lasting  an  impression. 

"  I  should  imagine  your  young  lady  would  be 
lonely." 

"  She  was  kinder  doleful  at  first,  but  mv  !  she  's 
chipper  as  a  cricket  now.  You  'd  oughter  to  see 
her  a-startin'  off  over  the  bridge.  She  just  goes  it ! 
She  don't  act  much  like  our  Jane  M'ria,  always 
a-hangin'  on  to  things,"  said  the  boy,  scornfully, 
"  an',  by  thunder,  ain't  she  a  beauty  ?" 

"  Why,  Jim,  I  had  no  idea  you  were  such  a  critic 
of  the  fair  sex,"  said  Mr.  Ogden,  laughing. 

"  I  rather  guess  I  know  when  folks  is  good-look- 
in'.  Jane  M'ria  says  she  's  the  image  of  the  hotty 
Lady  I-mer-gin.  She  's  in  one  o'  them  Ledger  yarns, 


OXE  SUMMER:  57 

yer  know.  I  never  see  T-mer-gin,-  an'  I  don't  want 
ter,  but  this  one  's  got  yaller  hair  an' 'big  black 
eyes.  She  an'  I  gits  along  first-rate,"  the  little 
fellow  continued  confidentially.  "  I  showed  her 
the  way  to  the  ole  fort ;  an'  she  takes  lots  o'  things 
and  goes  over  most  ev'ry  day." 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  lots  of  things,  Jimmie  1 " 

"  Well,  she  takes  a  readin'-book,  an'  a  drawin'- 
book,  an'  a  basket  for  leaves  an'  things,  yer  know, 
an'  most  ginrally  a  ombrell." 

"  Ah,  she  carries  an  umbrella,  does  she,  this 
Miss  L.  L.  Doaue  ]  A  wise  precautionary  meas- 
ure, certainly.  She  is  no  doubt  a  prudent  young 
person.  And  what  kind  of  an  umbrella  ?  Did 
you  ever  happen  to  notice  it  particularly  ] " 

"  It 's  got  a  shiny  ball  on  top.  Pewter,  I  guess. 
An'  a  pewter  cross-piece  on  the  handle.  It 's  a 
real  jolly  little  ombrell." 

"  Very  jolly,"  said  Mr.  Ogden,  with  decision. 

"  Why,  yer -ain't  seen  it,  have  yerl"  asked  Jim- 
mie, in  surprise. 

"  No,  I  cannot  say  that  I  have  ever  actually 
seen  it.  But  I  have  a  remembrance  of  once  hold- 
ing in  my  hand  an  umbrella  similar  to  the  one 
you  describe.  And  I  coincide  with  your  opinion 
that  it  is  jolly,  —  very  jolly  indeed.  And,  Jimmie, 
you  are  a  fine  boy.  You  shall  go  down  the  river 
in  my  wherry  as  often  as  you  like  when  I  get  out 
again.  I  think  we  are  going  to  be  excellent 
friends.  Shake  hands,  Jimmie,  and  then  you  may 
run  away." 

Jimmie  blushed  with  pleasure.  He  had  never 
before  been  called  a  fine  boy.  He  had  never  been 
3* 


58  ONE  SUMMER. 

in  a  wherry.  He  withdrew  in  a  beatific  state,  and 
Mr.  Ogden  was  left  to  his  reflection:* 

"  Circumstantial  evidence  is  frequently  at  fault, 
but  the  chances  are  ten  to  one  in  favor  of  Jimmie's 
Miss  Doane  and  my  incognita  being  one  and  the 
same  person." 

He  gained  additional  information  when  he  re- 
ceived, the  next  day,  this  note.  After  reading  it 
he  gave  a  long,  low,  and  expressive  whistle. 

MY  DEAR  PHILIP,  —  I  have  just  learned  with  great 
rejoicing  that  you  are  rusticating  in  Edgecomb,  the 
very  place  where  I  have  just  left  my  fair  sister,  Miss 
Doane.  I  am  detained  here  by  business,  and  my  wife 
and  I  cannot  get  down  for  a  few  weeks,  which  leaves 
Miss  Doane  in  an  unexpectedly  lonely  condition,  and 
fills  Mrs.  Otis's  heart  with  anxious  forebodings.  Under 
the.  circumstances,  she  ventures  to  send  her  compli- 
ments and  say  that  she  shall  feel  extremely  grateful, 
and  infinitely  safer  about  Miss  Doane,  if  you  will  have 
the  kindness  to  call  occasionally  upon  her,  and  if  you 
would  telegraph  us  in  case  of  any  accident  or  trouble 
of  any  kind,  which  we  do  not  apprehend,  of  course  ; 
but  Miss  Doane  does  not  know  a  person  in  the  place, 
and  it  is  not  agreeable'  for  us  to  think  of  her  as  an 
exile,  and  we  consequently  hail  you  joyfully. 

Harry  Blake  says  he  shall  bring  his  yacht  round 
there  during  the  summer,  and  that  he  expects  you  to 
join  him.  We  shall  all  be  glad  to  see  you  again, 
and -we '11  have  a  magnificent  reunion  on  the  Idle- 
wild. 

As  ever,  yours,  etc., 

TOM  Q.  OTIS. 


ONE  SUMMER.  59 


CHAPTER    VI. 

"  Dost  thou  think  I  care  for  a  satire  or  an  epigram  ?  " 

Much  Ado  About  Nothing. 

HE  Saturday  of  the  week  following  the 
accident  was  a  "gray  day,"  with  that 
soft,  moist  atmosphere  which,  inland, 
might  predict  rain,  but  which  in  Edge- 
comb  was  often  but  a  mild  intimation  of  the  prox- 
imitv  of  old  Neptune.  Grateful  for  the  cloudiness 
which  favored  his  eyes  and  his  plans,  Mr.  Ogden 
ventured  out.  He  was  in  a  cheerful  frame  of  mind, 
and  physically  in  a  tolerably  good  condition,  wearing 
only  a  "  black  and  blue  spot  "  of  moderate  size  as 
a  memento  of  Miss  Doane's  "jolly  little  ombrell." 

Having  inquired  of  Jinimie  which  was  Miss 
Phipps's  house,  he  started  off  at  a  brisk  pace  down 
the  road  which  he  had  last  traversed  under  the 
peculiar  circumstances  recorded. 

Jimmie's  admiring  face  watched  him  from  the 
porch. 

Suddenly  the  young  man's  course  was  arrested 
by  an  — 

"  I  say,  wait  for  a  feller,  won't  yer?" 

He  waited,  and  Jirnmie  came  springing  towards 
him. 

"  Look  here.  If  it 's  my  girl  you  're  after,  she 
ain't  likely  to  be  ter  home  morniu's.  The  fort 's 
yer  best  dodge." 


60  ONE  SUMMER. 

Looking  pleasantly  at  this  wise  young  judge, 
Mr.  Ogden  suid,  — 

"  Jim,  vou  are  'a  youth  whom  fate  reserves  for  a 
bright  future.'  Thank  you  for  giving  your  informa- 
tion as  you  did,  instead  of  from  the  steps,  at  the 
top  of  your  voice." 

"  I  ain't  in  the  habit  o'  tellin'  much  to  the  wo- 
men-folks, they  make  such  a  darned  gabble." 

His  lofty  air  and  precocious  assumption  of  manly 
superiority  were  irresistible.  Mr.  Ogden  laughed 
and  asked  him  his  age. 

"  Thirteen  next  July,"  was  the  prompt  answer. 

"Just  twelve,  then?" 

"  Well,  no,  not  precisely,  I  s'pose." 

Here  Mr.  Ogden  did  Jimmie  a  momentary  injus- 
tice. He  concluded  that  the  boy's  genius  as  a 
profound  observer  of  human  nature  was  more 
remarkable  than  his  knowledge  of  arithmetic. 
With  a  kindly,  but  wholly  superfluous  desire  to 
straighten  the  little  fellow's  tangled  ideas,  he 
said, — 

"  Why  not  1  What  day  of  the  month  was  your 
birthday  1 " 

"  T  was  n't  no  day.  It 's  goin'  to  be.  It 's  a 
creepin'  along  thunderin'  slow.  It 's  the  thirty- 
first." 

"  Indeed  !  You  count  more  rapidly  than  most 
persons.  As  it  is  about  the  middle  of  July,  I 
should  say  you  were  twelve  years  old,  and  an  un- 
commonly smart  boy  at  that." 

"  It  depen's  on  how  yer  looks  at  it,"  Jimmie  re- 
turned coolly.  "  Thirteen  next  July  is  about  my 
kalkerlation." 


ONE  SUMMER.  ^  £1 

"  If  you  wish  to  grow  old  so  fast,  why  do  you 
not  say  you  will  be  twenty-one,  eight  years  from 
the  thirty-first  day  of  next  JulyT  It  would  be 
according  to  your  principle,  and  might  be  still 
more  encouraging  than  your  view  of  the  matter." 

Jimmie  knew  that  the  gentleman  was  quizzing 
him,  but  adhered  to  his  original  line  of  argu- 
ment. 

"  Cos  't  ain't  reasonable,"  he  said  stoutly,  "  and 
t'  other  way  is.  Yer  see,"  he  explained,  "  I  reckon 
from  the  Fourth.  It 's  a  jolly  good  day  to  start 
from.  When  the  bells  begin  to  ring  next  Fourth- 
of-July  mornin',  and  the  old  cannon  blazes  away 
on  the  Common,  I  shall  say  to  myself,  '  Ole  feller, 
you  're  fourteen  next  year,  sure 's  yer  born,'  an'  it 
keeps  my  spirits  up  wonderful." 

"  You  deserve  to  be  a  second  Methuselah,  if  you 
want  to  be.  Good  by,  Jim.  We  understand  each 
other,  do  we  1 " 

"  Mum 's  the  word,  sir,"  said  the  discreet  boy ; 
and  Mr.  Ogden  resumed  his  walk. 

Otis's  letter,  he  thought,  had  lessened  some  of 
his  difficulties.  Presenting  himself  and  his  abject 
apologies  before  Miss  Doane  was  less  formidable 
now  that  her  family  sanctioned  their  acquaint- 
ance, —  even  begged  him  to  take  a  friendly  inter- 
est in  her.  "  I  shall  plead  guilty,  but  recommend 
myself  strongly  to  mercy.  There  is  no  getting 
round  the  awkwardness  of  the  affair  ;  but  perhaps 
she  '11  be  forgiving." 

In  this  sanguine  mood  he  approached  Miss 
Phipps's  abode.  Miss  Doane  was  out.  Having 
left  his  card  with  the  antique  maiden,  who  at 


62  ONE  SUMMER. 

once  put  on  her  spectacles  and  severely  scrutinized 
the  name  and  the  gentleman  who  bore  it,  he 
lighted  a  cigar  and  passed  down  the  hill  which 
led  to  the  bridge.  This  ancient  arid  honorable 
structure  was  nearly  a  mile  in  length  and  wide 
enough  for  three  old-fashioned  stage-coaches  to 
drive  abreast.  It  connected  Edgecomb  with  an  isl- 
and, from  which  a  second  open  bridge  extended 
to  the  opposite  village  of  Romney.  The  chain 
formed  by  the  two  bridges  and  the  island  was  two 
miles  and  a  half  long  ;  so  that  one,  by  going  from 
Edgecomb  to  Romney  and  returning,  could  take 
a  pleasant  "  constitutional  "  of  five  miles  over  the 
bridges,  with  their  charming  views  both  up  and 
down  the  river,  and  through  the  fragrant  wood- 
road  that  ran  across  the  island. 

In  Edgecornb's  golden  days  its  bridge  was  a 
famous  promenade  and  place  of  resort.  There  at 
sunset  the  people  would  gather,  —  old  and  young, 
rich  and  poor,  —  to  walk,  to  talk,  to  see  and  be 
seen,  to  watch  the  long  light  sweep  across  the 
wide  river  and  fade  away  behind  the  hills. 

"There  youths  and  maidens  dreaming  strayed." 

There  rose  castles  in  the  air  without  number. 
There  hearts  were  broken,  sweet  and  bitter  words 
were  said,  and  many  sad  farewells.  It  was  a 
gloomy  old  bridge  crowded  with  phantoms;  but 
not  one  ghost  of  the  past  disturbed  Philip  Ogden's 
peace  of  mind.  He  was  glad  to  be  a  free  man 
again.  The  outer  world  looked  pleasant  to  him 
after  his  dull  week  in  the  farm-house.  The  dead 
past  was  nothing  to  him,  and  his  thoughts  of  the 


ONE  SUMMER.  63 

bridge  were  altogether  practical  and  commonplace. 
He  noticed  that  its  timbers  were  rotten,  its  railing 
feeble  and  tottering,  —  dying  of  old  age,  and  the 
"  selectmen  "  would  not  give  it  any  Elixir  of  Life 
in  the  shape  of  energetic  repairs.  He  saw  one 
patch  of  fresher  wood,  where  a  heavily  laden  stage- 
coach went  through  some  years  previous.  "  Com- 
fortable predicament  for  the  passengers.  I  believe 
somebody  told  me  the  accident  had  not  a  tragical 
termination.  No  lives  were  lost  nor  bones  broken, 
but  I  am  not  surprised  that  stages  cross  Edge- 
comb  bridge  no  more."  It  probably  was  not  really 
worth  repairing.  To  let  it  alone  or  rebuild  it 
completely  was  the  only  thing  to  be  done,  and 
Edgecomb  had  apparently  decided  upon  the 
former  course.  How  long  before  it  would  fall  1 
He  leaned  over  the  railing  and  looked  at  the 
mouldering  trestle-work,  then  glanced  idly  at  the 
countless  initials,  carved  years  and  years  before,  — • 
some  perhaps  by  laughing  children  trooping  noisily 
down  from  school,  some  by  happy  lovers  who 
stood  there  dreamily  watching  the  moon  rise  over 
the  hills,  and  asking  blindly  of  the  future  what 
it  would  never  give  them.  The  qiiaint  letters 
and  symbols  spoke  a  language  which  Philip,  in 
his  tranquil  mood,  failed  to  interpret.  He  re- 
garded unfeelingly  a  heart  pierced  by  numerous 
arrows,  —  a  pitiful  design,  emblematic,  no  doubt, 
of  much  suffering.  An  old  farmer  in  a  creaking 
wagon,  jogging  over  to  Edgecomb,  nodded  famil- 
iarly, after  the  country  fashion,  to  the  young 
man,  who  responded  pleasantly  and  went  on  his 
way. 


64  ONE  SUMMER. 

He  reached  the  island,  and  turned  off  from  the 
main  road  which  crossed  it  into  a  winding  path 
which  ran  through  the  woods.  Soon  he  came  to 
an  opening.  Here  the  land  began  to  rise  percepti- 
bly towards  the  southern  point  of  the  island,  where 
a  curious  excavation,  an  old  embankment,  and  frag- 
ments of  a  wall  marked  the  site  of  the  fort. 

He  had  not  before  visited  this  spot,  and  was 
surprised  at  the  extent  of  the  view.  West  was 
Edgecomb,  thick  with  elms  on  its  hill-slope, 
crowned  by  a  row  of  stately,  sombre  houses  and 
three  white  church-spires.  On  the  east,  Romney ; 
and  beyond  each  village  the  pretty  hills  rising 
higher  and  higher  in  the  distance ;  while  from  his 
elevated  position  he  could  follow  the  graceful 
shore-line  many  miles. 

"  This  is  fine,  but  I  presume  I  lose  half  of  it. 
I  must  bring  a  glass  over  here  to-morrow."  He 
turned,  walked  a  few  steps  leisurely  in  the  direc- 
tion of  Romney,  when  he  saw  directly  before  him 
an  object  which  he  needed  no  glass  to  appreciate. 
Leaning  against  a  rock,  looking  as  guileless  as  if 
it  had  never  been  an  instrument  of  torture,  was 
an  umbrella,  —  the  umbrella  he  could  not  well 
doubt.  He  took  it  up  and  examined  it  with  par- 
donable curiosity.  It- was  a  small  black  silk  one, 
with  an  ebony  stick,  having  on  one  end  a  silver 
cross,  on  the  other  the  silver  ball  that  did  "  mil- 
lions of  mischief";  and  the  missing  link  in  the 
chain  of  evidence  stared  him  in  the  face  from  a  sil- 
ver band  on  which  was  engraved,  "  L.  L.  Doane." 

He  was  extremely  amused.  He  struck  the  palm 
of  his  left  hand  lightly  with  that  ornamental  ball, 


ONE  SUMMER.  65 

estimated  its  weight,  and  felt  that  he  was  a  lucky 
man.  "  If  I  were  in  reality  Miss  Doane's  guardi- 
an," he  thought,  smilingly,  "  I  would  take  effectual 
measures  to  keep  her  in  the  house  stormy  evenings, 
not  only  for  her  own  sake,  but  out  of  regard  for 
the  safety  of  the  public." 

He  inferred  that  she  must  be  in  the  vicinity. 
She  probably  had  gone  into  the  wood  for  flowers. 
He  might  miss  her  should  he  seek  her  there.  He 
would  await  her  return.  Thus  he  reasoned,  and 
serenely  anticipated  making  a  pleasant  acquaint- 
ance. 

Birch  Point,  one  of  the  loveliest  spots  on  the 
shore  below  Edgecomb,  was  seen  from  the  fort  to 
the  best  advantage. 

"  Perhaps  Miss  Doane  will  allow  me  to  take  her 
out  rowing.  She  might  like  that  quiet  little  cove 
over  there.  Ladies  do  not  generally  fancy  too  much 
current."  Certainly  she  might  rely  upon  him  for 
any  amusement  he  could  afford  her.  She  had  the 
strongest  claim  upon  his  services.  There  was 
nothing  that  he  would  not  do  for  Otis,  and  nothing 
half  good  enough  to  do  for  her,  in  atonement  for  his 
insolence.  He  presumed  she  would  be  an  agreeable 
girl.  Otis's  wife's  sister  ought  to  be.  That  was,  to 
be  sure,  a  woman's  method  of  reasoning,  but  he 
fancied  it  would  prove  correct  in  this  instance.  A 
strong  ludicrous  element  at  the  beginning  of  an 
acquaintance  was  often  of  use.  It  gave  one  a  foun- 
dation to  build  upon. 

In  this  state  of  benign  composure,  making  plans 
as  to  drives  and  rows  which  he  hoped  would  meet 
with  Miss  Doane's  gracious  approval,  he  seated 


66  ONE-  SUMMER. 

himself  on  the  rock  and  took  a  cigar  from  his  case. 
As  he  turned  to  strike  a  match,  an  open  sketch- 
book suddenly  arrested  his  attention.  The  gray- 
ish tint  of  its  leaves  blended  with  the  rock  on 
which  it  was  lying,  and  had  it  not  been  near  him 
it  would  have  escaped  his  notice.  He  gazed  as  if 
spellbound.  He  was  a  man  of  honor,  scrupulous 
in  trifles,  yet  he  took  that  book  in  his  two  hands 
and  intently  scrutinized  each  line  on  the  pages 
before  him.  "  Every  man  has  his  price,"  is  an 
unpleasant  misanthropical  doctrine.  It  is  more 
agreeable,  and  perhaps  as  wise  in  the  end,  to  forget 
it,  and  dwell  kindly  upon  the  vast  amount  of  temp- 
tation poor  human  nature  is  sometimes  enabled  to 
resist.  Here  was,  no  doubt,  a  real  temptation  to 
Philip  Ogden,  and  it  would  have  been  highly  credit- 
able to  him  had  he,  with  his  usual  delicacy,  virtu- 
ously closed  the  book.  But  that  vigorous,  dashing 
style  of  drawing  was  his  price.  He  did  not  resist. 
He  succumbed  completely.  He  was  even  guilty 
of  the  enormous  misdemeanor  of  reading  what  was 
written  as  a  motto  for  the  sketches.  And  then  this 
misguided  man  threw  back  his  head  and  laughed 
loud  and  long,  laughed  as  he  had  not  since  he 
was  a  boy  and  had  successfully  carried  out  some 
madcap  prank  at  school. 

"  She's  a  veritable  genius ! "  he  said.  "  She  would 
make  a  fortune  for  any  illustrated  newspaper  in 
the  world.  It  is  the  richest  thing  I  ever  saw." 

At  the  top  of  a  page  were,  wickedly  misapplied, 
Shelley's  lines,  — 

"  We  look  before  and  after, 
And  pine  for  what  is  not." 


ONE  SUMMER.  67 

. 

"BEFORE" 

•was  the  title  of  the  first  sketch,  which  depicted 
this  scene  :  — 

A  pouring  rain.  A  sharp  corner  where  two  vil- 
lage streets  meet,  the  one  with  an  ascending,  the 
other  with  a  descending  slope.  Upon  what  might 
be  called  the  down-grade,  advancing  furiously,  was 
a  female  figure  drawn  with  much  spirit.  Her  dra- 
peries were  flying  in  the  wind.  Her  umbrella, 
grasped  in  both  hands,  had  a  malignant,  evil  look, 
—  an  umbrella  rampant, —  her  resolute  poise  told 
of  contest  with  the  storm,  and  strong  determination 
to  go  on  in  spite  of  it.  While  upon  the  other  street, 
unconscious  of  his  doom,  sauntering  complacently 
to  meet  it,  was  a  man,  and  such  a  man !  It  was 
here  that  the  genius  of  the  artist  had  most  forcibly 
asserted  itself.  A  dandy.  A  Turveydrop.  A  man 
with  his  hat  set  jauntily  on  the  side  of  his  head. 
A  man  whose  buttonhole  bouquet  resembled  a 
display  of  "  mammoth  "  vegetables,  who  looked  as 
if  he  pointed  his  toes  when  he  walked  and  had 
devoted  an  hour  to  his  necktie,  and  whose  face  was 
devoid  of  all  meaning  except  the  unutterable  self- 
sufficiency  shown  in  the  lines  about  the  mouth.  In 
this  picture  collision  was  imminent,  and  upon  the 
next  page  its  results  were  portrayed  in 

"AFTER." 

A  rough,  hilly  country-road,  with  gloomy  woods 
on  both  sides.     Through  wind  and  rain  walk,  arm 
in  arm,  the  two  figures  described.     The  surprised,   . 
indignant  remonstrance   of  the  girl's  face  was  a 


68  ONE  SUMMER. 

study.  The  man,  the  upper  part  of  his  face  being 
concealed  by  a  handkerchief  bound  round  his  eyes, 
still  disclosed  the  turned-up  corners  of  his  odious 
mouth,  and  minced  along  pompously,  while — most 
malicious  touch  of  all !  —  he  held  an  umbrella  well 
over  his  own  head,  and  in  exactly  the  position  that 
would  entail  constant  drippings  on  his  companion's. 
In  the  corner  of  each  sketch  was  plainly  written, 
L.  L.  Doane.  Thus  had  she  revenged  herself. 


ONE  SUMMER. 


CHAPTER    VII. 

"What,  my  dear  Lady  Disdain  !    Are  you  yet  living?" 

Much  Ado  About  Nothing. 

HILIP,  engrossed  by  this  masterly  work 
of  art,  did  not  hear  a  step  on  the  soft 
turf. 

"  When  you  have  quite  finished  your 
inspection,  sir,  I  will  trouble  you  for  my  sketch- 
book," said  a  voice  behind  him  dryly,  and  with  a 
sarcastic  inflection  that  was  unmistakable. 

In  an  instant  he  threw  away  his  cigar,  sprang  to 
his  feet,  turned,  took  off  his  hat,  and  saw  what  he 
never  in  after  years  forgot.  A  slight  graceful  fig- 
ure in  soft  brown,  standing  erect  before  him,  with 
a  wide  flat  basket  filled  with  wild-flowers,  ferns, 
and  mosses.  Beneath  a  brown  shade-hat,  pushed 
back  from  the  face,  wavy  fair  hair,  a  pale  olive 
skin,  great  dark  eyes  looking  coldly  at  him,  and 
a  mouth  at  that  moment  set  haughtily  in  a  man- 
ner that  boded  no  good. 

Politely  and  inquiringly  he  said,  — 

"  Miss  Doane  ] " 

She  was  a  truthful  girl,  but  her  good  angel  for- 
sook her,  and  she  told  a  white  lie. 

"  You  have  the  advantage  of  me,  sir." 

She  could  not  swear,  possibly,  that  his  name  was 
Ogden,  but  she  had  every  reason  to  think  that  it 
was.  Did  not  that  discolored  cheek  prove  his  iden- 


70  ONE  SUMMER. 

tity  ?  He  was  not  appalled  by  her  icy  demeanor, 
which  involuntarily  reminded  him  of  the  "hotty 
Lady  I-mer-gin,"  and,  restraining  a  smile  which  he 
felt  would  not  be  well  received  by  this  severely 
statuesque  young  lady,  he  replied,  — 

"Pardon  me.  The  advantage  was  certainly 
yours  before.  It  is  yours  now.  It  must  of  neces- 
sity always  remain  with  you." 

Miss  Doane  in  her  varied  reading  had  never 
met  with  the  Lady  Imogen,  whom  she  was  sup- 
posed to  resemble,  and  she  misinterpreted  the 
cause  of  the  faint  smile  upon  Mr.  Ogden's  lips. 
Neither  his  cordial  voice,  nor  his  genial  allusion  to 
their  first  meeting,  nor  the  eminently  conciliatory 
character  of  his  remark,  found  favor  with  her.  With- 
out replying,  without  indeed  glancing  at  him,  she 
stooped,  took  from  the  rock  a  small  volume  which 
had  been  concealed  by  the  sketch-book,  and  which, 
carefully  lifting  her  violets  and  ferns,  she  placed 
in  her  basket.  She  then  passed  by  him  for  her 
umbrella.  Her  movements  were  deliberate,  and, 
it  was  evident,  preparatory  to  departure. 

Philip  realized  that  she  was  going  because  he 
had  come.  His  intentions  in  visiting  her  favorite 
haunt  were,  as  has  been  shown,  most  amicable. 
The  weapon  that  had  wounded  him  he  had  sur- 
veyed in  a  forgiving,  even  in  a  quizzical  spirit. 
The  caricature,  so  clear  an  exponent  of  Miss 
Doane's  impression  of  him,  he  had  examined  with 
imperturbable  good-nature,  admiring  the  humorous 
talent  it  displayed,  and  sympathizing  with  the  in- 
censed artist.  "  I  do  not  wonder  that  she  thought 
me  a  prig,"  was  his  amiable  comment  when  study- 


ONE  SUMMER.  71 

ing  the  unflattering  sketches.  But  her  continued 
silence,  under  the  circumstances  aggressive  in 
itself,  her  indescribable  frigidity,  and  her  affecta- 
tion of  ignoring  his  presence,  were  enough  to  irri- 
tate the  meekest  man.  The  genial  look  faded 
from  his  face.  And  she  quite  exhausted  his 
patience  when  she  finally  said  in  an  exasperatingly 
indifferent  way,  standing  before  him  and  looking, 
not  at  him,  but  with  still  eyelids  and  a  fixed  gaze 
far  beyond  him  down  upon  the  river,  — 

"Will  you. have  the  kindness  to  give  me  my 
book  1 " 

He  had  unconsciously  retained  it. 

With  more  serious  apologies,  he  felt  that  to  ask 
her  pardon  for  examining  her  sketches  might  not 
be  superfluous.  He  thought  also  of  Tom's  letter, 
and  of  his  own  object  in  seeking  her,  an  honest  de- 
sire to  atone  so  far  as  possible  for  the  past  by  the 
proffer  of  unlimited  service  in  future.  But  her 
hauteur  forbade  the  expression  of  his  sentiments. 
It  seemed  that  an  allusion  ,to  things  of  the  past 
was  precisely  what  she  wished  to  avoid. 

"  So  be  it,  then.  A  man  cannot  talk  to  a  statue 
cut.  in  alabaster.  Any  reference  to  Tom  is  out  of 
the  question.  She  scorns  to  conceal  that  I  am 
repugnant  to  her.  Having  no  merits  of  my  own,  I 
have  no  desire  to  prop  myself  up  with  Otis's.  The 
briefer  the  interview  the  better  for  both  parties  ! " 

Such  were  his  hasty  reflections  as  she  demanded 
her  property.  For  one  moment  he  looked  steadily 
at  her,  then  placed  the  book  in  her  hand,  and  in  a 
tons  quite  as  cold  as  her  own,  said  simply,  — 

"  It  is  my  place,  Miss  Doane,  not  yours,  to  with- 


72  OXE  SUMMER. 

draw."  Lifting  his  hat  with  grave  courtesy,  he 
walked  rapidly  away  aud  soon  disappeared  among 
the  trees. 

So  they  met  again,  and  so  they  parted. 

Had  she  received  him  with  that  gentle  effusion 
and  highly  flattering  manner  which  most  men 
esteem  "  an  excellent  thing  in  woman,"  had  she 
tenderly  sympathized  with  his  misfortune,  dep- 
recatingly  explained  why  she  was  out  in  the  storm 
that  night,  disarmed  him  with  an  appealing  look 
from  under  her  long  lashes,  and  a  "  Was  it  so  very 
naughty]"  in  an  infantine,  confiding  tone,  she 
might  have  impressed  him  with  the  idea  that  she 
was  the  sweetest,  most  artless  girl  in  existence ; 
that  wandering  about  alone  dark,  stormy  nights 
was,  in  her,  a  praiseworthv  act,  and  destroving  peo- 
ple's visual  organs  a  fascinating  accomplishment. 
Results  equally  astounding  have  been  attained  by 
young  women  less  clever  than  Leigh  Doane,  with 
men  quite  as  sensible  as  Philip  Ogden.  But  she 
was  twenty,  and  -well  grown,  and  she  did  not  know 
how  to  assume  ways  which  are,  as  was  Richard  III., 
"  too  childish-foolish  for  this  world."  Her  clever- 
ness did  not  lie  in  a  knowledge  of  such  tactics. 
She  had  not  studied  them,  nor  did  s-he,  as  do  some 
women,  know  them  intuitively.  There  was,  how- 
ever, another,  a  medium  course,  and  one  that  would 
have  been  in  accordance  with  her  nature.  She 
could  have  been  frank  and  sufficiently  gracious. 
She  might  have  accepted  his  apologies  and  made 
her  own.  Though  disliking  him,  she  could  at  least 
have  been  civil.  For  reasons  best  known  to  her- 
self, she  was  not.  And  these  two,  who  might  have 


ONE  SUMMER  73 

in  a  bland  conversation  upon  topics  of 
mutual  interest,  —  the  weather,  the  scenery,  why 
Tom  did  not  come,  why  Mr.  Ogden  had,  how  queer 
Miss  Phipps  was,  and  what  rare  specimens  of' hu- 
manity were  revealed  in  the  Holbrook  family, — lost 
their  opportunity.  One  was  left  alone.  The  oth- 
er, having  abandoned  the  regular  path,  was  going 
through  the  woods  with  great  strides,  accelerated 
by  indignation,  trampling  over  the  underbrush, 
and  pushing  away  low  branches  with  marked  ener- 
gy. His  course,  as  he  had  anticipated,  brought 
him  out  at  a  point  in  the  main  road  not  far  from 
the  Romney  bridge,  and  presently  its  loose  planks 
were  rattling  beneath  his  tread.  He  crossed  it,  and 
iu  a  long  ramble  on  the  east  side  of  the  river 
walked  off  his  vexation,  and  coolly  decided  that 
Miss  Doane  and  her  vagaries  were  of  small  conse- 
quence. 

He  had  been  prepared  to  blame  himself  wholly, 
her  not  at  all ;  but  her  ungracious  reception  had 
led  him  to  think  that  the  scales  might  be  more 
evenly  balanced,  that  his  week  of  inconvenience 
and  pain,  his  hearty  desire  to  make  reparation  for 
his  blundering,  might  justly  have  some  weight  in 
his  favor.  As  a  gentleman,  he  must  always  regret 
having  caused  her  so  much  discomfort  and  annoy- 
ance ;  but,  since  she  had  not  even  allowed  him  the 
satisfaction  of  calling  himself  a  brute,  since  she 
had  rendered  expiation  impossible,  he  washed  his 
hands  of  the  whole  matter.  He  had  done  his  part. 
Angels  could  do  no  more. 

Edgecomb  air  was  as  healthful,  Edgecomb  wa- 
ters afforded  as  fine  facilities  for  rowing,  as  before 


74  ONE  SUMMER. 

the  advent  of  this  Miss  Doane,  who  was,  by  the 
way,  a  charmingly  agreeable  person  to  take  out  in 
his  wherry.  Should  the  boat  upset,  she  would  float 
about  in  the  water  like  any  other .  iceberg.  His 
feeling  towards  he>*  gradually  merged  into  quiet 
disapproval.  What  he  knew  of  her  he  did  not 
admire,  except,  of  course,  her  beauty.  That,  he 
admitted,  was  of  a  rare  order.  It  was  not  the 
style  he  liked  best.  It  had  not  the  sweet,  winning, 
ever-varying  expression  that  he  preferred.  But  in 
an  artistic  sense  simply,  Miss  Doane's  face  was 
the  most  beautiful  he  had  ever  seen.  And  whether 
it  was  on  account  of  its  intrinsic  beauty,  or  because 
he  had  not  before  noticed  a  lovely  girl  in  Edge- 
comb,  or  because  she  was  the  first  woman  who  had 
rendered  it  quite  evident  to  him  that  in  her  opinion 
he  was  intolerably  disagreeable,  it  haunted  him. 
It  spite  of  what  he  assured  himself  was  pure  indif- 
ference to  her,  like  a  familiar  picture  he  could  see, 
well  defined  before  him,  the  background  of  trees, 
the  dull  skies,  the  soft  brown  of  her  dress,  the 
great  basket  laden  with  cool  green  things  from 
,the  woods,  the  long  vines  trailing  over  its  edge, 
and,  most  distinct  of  all,  the  fair  young  face, 
so  fresh  in  its  coloring,  so  inflexible  in  its  frozen 
repose. 

What  can  she  want  of  violets?  It  was  win- 
some Persephone  who  gathered  flowers  on  the 
meadow,  —  not  an  ice-maiden  like  this.  Even 
Rappacini's  daughter,  nourished  upon  poison,  and 
withering  flowers  with  her  fatal  breath,  was  less 
chilling  and  unlovely  in  manner. 

Meanwhile  the  forbidding,  repellent,  self-poised 


ONE  SUMMER.  75 

creature  sat  in  a  dejected  heap  on  the  grass,  — 
elbows  on  the  rock,  face  on  her  hands,  sad  eyes 
looking  off  absently  across  the  water  at  Birch 
Point.  Already  the  iceberg,  humanized,  was 
suffering  the  cruel  pangs  of  remorse.  She  had 
been  inexcusably  rude  to  Mr.  Ogden,  and  she 
liked  neither  him  nor  herself  any  the  better  for 
that. 

"  0  dear,  I  wish  they  would  come  !  "  she  sighed. 


76  ONE  SUMMER. 


CHAPTER    VIII. 


"  So  we  met 

In  this  old  sleepy  town,  at  unaware, 
The  man  and  I." 


EDGECOMB,  July  15, 18— 
DEAR  TOM  AND  DEAREST  BESSIE,  —  Let  us  play 

"  Consequences."     I  '11  begin.. 

Miss  Laura  Leigh  Doane  and  Mr.  Philip  Ogden 

met   in    Edgecomb,    on    a   street-corner,    a   dark, 

stormy  night,  to  the  physical  distress  of  one  and 

the  mental  agony  of  the  other. 

HE  SAID, — 

"  My  good  woman,  your  insignificant  umbrella 
has  had  the  presumption  to  put  out  my  majestic 
eye.  Shall  I  graciously  allow  you  the  supreme 
honor  of  trudging  through  two  miles  of  mud  with 
me?" 

SHE  SAID,  — 

(meekly,  but  with  rage,  hate,  rebellion,  and  various 
other  deadly  sins  warring  in  her  heart,)  — 

"  Yes,  sir." 

THE  WORLD  SAID, — 

(or.  would  have  said,  had  it  known  anything  about 
it,  what  it  has  ever  said  since  Adam  introduced 
the  custom  of  accusing  "the  woman,")  — 
"  She  had  onlv  herself  to  blame." 


ONE  SUMMER.  77 

THE  CONSEQUENCES  WERE  :  — 

Mr.  Ogden  retired  from  the  world  for  a  season, 
and  Miss  Doane  indulged  in  hatred,  malice,  and 
all  uncharitableness.  She  never,  never  wished  to 
meet  him  again.  And  when  at  last  he  loomed  up 
suddenly  before  her,  she  was  unpardonably  rude 
and  disagreeable ;  yet  not  so  utterly  lost  to  every 
semblance  of  good  feeling  that  she  could  thus  ill 
treat  a  friend  of  Tom  without  repenting  in  sack- 
cloth and  ashes,  and  longing  for  her  dear  people 
to  come  and  brush  away  her  cobwebs. 

Bessie,  dear,  this  is  true,  or  nearly  so,  and  it  is 
what  you  have  thought  only  my  nonsense  when  I 
have  just  touched  upon  it  or  fluttered  over  it  in 
my  letters.  I  ought  to  have  told  you  before,  but 
it  did  seem  too  ridiculous  to  write.  Indeed,  I 
will  reserve  the  details  of  my  escapade  until  I  can 
talk  with  you  ;  but  I  did  go  out  in  the  rain.  T 
did  run  against  him.  I  did  hurt  him.  And  he 
thought  I  was  a  nobody,  and  coolly  requested  me 
to  tie  a  bandage  over  his  eyes  and  take  him  home, 
which  I  did,  to  my  own  profound  amazement. 
He  thanked  me,  and  feed  me  well.  (And  when 
you  come,  Tom,  you  must  give  the  odious  creature 
his  ill-timed  offering.)  This  was  the  evening  of 
the  day  you  did  not  come.  You  cannot  under- 
stand it,  nor  can  I  ;  but  it  all  happened.  I  went 
for  a  book,  yon  see,  and  everything  worked  against 
me,  —  even  the  powers  of  the  air,  —  and  it  was 
all  so  very  uncomfortable  for  me  afterwards,  I 
could  not  help  attributing  it  to  Mr.  Ogden;  and 
that  was  why  I  told  you,  Tom,  not  to  send  him  to 
see  me. 


78  ONE  SUMMER. 

I  have  reversed  the  usual  order  of  things. 
First  I  made  war,  then  I  declared  it.  I  have  been 
detestable  ;  but,  Tom,  what  you  can  find  to  admire 
in  that  man  is  beyond  my  feeble  comprehension. 

He  was  confined  to  his  room  a  week  or  more,  so 
my  little  Jimmie-boy  reported.  During  that  time 
I  became  quite  softened.  I  could  not  like  his 
Grand  Mogul  ways,  but  I  was  so  sorry,  so  very, 
very  sorry  that  I  had  actually  hurt  him,  and  that 
he  was  suffering  some  pain,  no  doubt,  and  much 
loneliness,  and  all  through  my  evil-doings.  Then 
caine  your  last  letters  insisting  earnestly  upon  my 
knowing  him,  telling  me  that  he  was  such  an  "  un- 
commonly good  fellow  "  (Tom,  if  he  's  "  uncom- 
monly good,"  commonly  good  is  more  to  my  taste), 
and  assuring  me  that  you  would  feel  much  relieved 
about  me  if  so  fine,  high-toned,  honorable,  efficient, 
altogether  charming  and  admirable  individual  would 
deign  to  keep  himself  informed  of  my  movements, 
and  would  telegraph  to  you  in  case  I  should  fall 
from  a  rock  and  break  my  neck,  or  lean  too  hard 
upon  the  railing  of  the  dear  dilapidated  old  bridge. 
Perhaps  I 'did  not  fully  appreciate  the  practical 
utility  of  this  plan  ;  but  since  you  really  wished 
me  to  know  him,  and  especially  since  you  an- 
nounced that  you  had  written  to  him  desiring 
him,  formally,  to  call  upon  me,  1  grew  decently 
amiable.  I  reasoned  with  myself.  I  decided  to 
meet  him  frankly,  to  express  my  regret  for  the 
accident,  to  treat  the  matter  of  my  performing 
escort-duty  for  him  as  of  no  consequence  at  all,  in 
short,  to  be  very  good  during  his  visit,  which  I 
naturally  thought  would  take  place  here,  at  the 


ONE  SUMMER.  79 

house  ;  and  afterwards  I  would  see  him  as  little 
as  possible,  I  determined. 

I  was  prepared  to  do  all  that  could  be  expected 
of  me  ;  to  sit  like  a  model  from  a  Book  of  Decorum, 
with  my  reluctant  vertebrae  leaning  against  one 
of  Phipps's  perpendicular  chair-backs ;  to  converse 
as  well  as  I  knew  how  upon  any  topic  which  might 
prove  agreeable  to  my  guest.  But  I  was  not  — 
I  was  not  prepared  for  the  sight  that  met  my  eyes 
yesterday  at  the  fort. 

I  had  been  in  the  woods  for  flowers,  and  return- 
ing to  my  favorite  resting-place  saw  a  gentleman  — 
Mr.  Ogden,  I  knew  instinctively  —  intently  regard- 
ing my  sketch-book.  His  back  was  turned,  so  that 
I  could  not  see  his  face,  but  I  knew  he  was  laugh- 
ing, for  his  shoulders  fairly  shook.  Indeed,  I  have 
the  impression  that  he  must  have  shouted  over 
my  designs,  for  I  heard  something  of  the  kind 
when  I  was  in  among  the  trees.  [  will  do  him 
the  justice  to  say  that  the  book  was  lying  open 
when  he  found  it.  And,  Bessie,  fancy  at  what !  — 
(the  influences,  as  the  mediums  say,  must  have 
been  sadly  against  me  that  morning,)  —  at  some 
absurd  sketches  illustrative  of  our  first  meeting. 
I  did  them  the  day  after  the  accident,  and  he  was 
as  ridiculous  as  I  could  make  him.  It  was  for 
your  amusement,  not  his.  He  had  no  right  to 
laugh  !  Yesterday  my  work  was  only  an  innocent, 
amiable  little  sketch  of  Birch  Point,  a  fascinating 
subject  I  am  constantly  attempting.  Why  did  he 
not  see  that  instead  ]  t  Why  did  the  leaves  open 
to  the  malicious,  naughty  caricatures  I  had  almost 
forgotten  1  Why  did  I  not  close  the  book  ]  I 


OXE  SUMMER. 

usually  do.  Because  the  man  is  my  evil  genius. 
Before  he  appears  I  do  some  unfortunate,  unnatu- 
ral thing.  When  I  am  with  him  I  am  completely 
transformed.  I  do  not  recognize  myself.  Scold 
me,  Tom,  as  much  as  you  like.  I  deserve  it,  but 
if  you  love  me,  come  down  and  keep  him  awav. 

Where  was  1 1  0,  — just  coming  from  the 
woods."  Bessie,  I  am  sorry,  too  sorry  for  what  1 
did.  I  do  not  seek  to  excuse  the  inexcusable. 
If  patient  Griselda's  liege  lord  —  tyrannical  old 
Turk  that  he  was  !  —  had  chosen  to  swing  her 
about  by  the  hair  of  her  head  as  a  light  exercise 
and  pastime,  I  presume,  from  aH  accounts,  the 
poor  thing,  for  whom  I  never  had  the  faintest 
spark  o^  admiration,  would  have  meekly  borne  it, 
and  sweetly  encouraged  him  in  it,  so  long  as  there 
was  a  hair  left  for  him  to  grasp  ;  but  I  am  not  sure 
that  even  she  would  have  seen  a  perfect  stranger 
examining  at  his  leisure  her  own  private  property, 
without  making  a  mild  protest,  and  to  me  the 
sight  was  intolerably  provoking. 

There  he  sat  on  my  rock,  surrounded,  like  a 
Choctaw  chieftain,  with  trophies  of  victory.  My 
Idyls  at  his  right.  My  umbrella  leaning  against 
the  rock  at  his  left.  My  sketch-book  open  in  his 
hands.  It  was  too  much.  The  tide  of  memory 
rushed  over  me.  I  was  again  seized  by  the  in- 
tense unreasoning  dislike  I  had  felt  for  him.  Was 
I  always  to  appear  at  a  disadvantage  before  him  ] 
I  am  ashamed  to  tell  you  how  disagreeably  I 
advanced  and  demanded  my  book.  I  wickedly 
hoped  he  would  be  confused.  He  never  dreamed 
of  such  a  thing.  He  is  always  so  unpleasantly 


OXE  SUMMER.  81 

"  superior."  He  rose  to  meet  me  with  a  cordial 
expression,  as  if  I  were  an  old  and  valued  friend. 
I  determined  to  ruffle  that  beautiful  composure. 
I  did  not  know  I  could  be  so  detestable  ;  but  a 
latent  talent  of  that  description,  I  suppose,  like 
courage,  "mounteth  with  occasion."  By  my  man- 
ner, 1  said  as  plainly  as  by  words,  "  Do  not  apol- 
ogize. Do  not  introduce  yourself.  Do  not  speak. 
You  are  odious.  I  am  going." 

I  pretended  not  to  look  at  him,  but  I  saw  per- 
fectly well  his  expression  changing  from  smiling 
ease  to  gravity,  severity,  as  it  dawned  upon  him 
that  my  inimical  bearing  was  with  malice  pre- 
pense. He  gave  me  one  long,  steady  look  as  if  to 
discover  to  what  species  of  created  beings  I  be- 
longed, then  with  a  word  left  me.  Your  Mr.  Og- 
den  has  quick  perceptions,  Tom.  Any  man  of 
sense  would  have  understood  me  ;  but  I  think  some 
men  would  have  insisted  upon  speaking. 

And,  after  all,  he  had  the  best  of  it.  He  was 
still  "  superior."  He  went  through  the  woods,  it  is 
true,  with  great  rapidity,  suggestive,  it  may  be,  of 
inward  wrath,  but  he  made  his  exit  from  this  dra- 
matic scene  with  calmness,  grace,  and  dignity.  He 
did  not  forget  that  an  impressive  deportment  is 
always  the  best  policy.  His  final  remark  was  a 
rebuke  in  its  cool  civility,  for  you  see  I  was  cool  in- 
civility personified.  He  meant  to  conduct  himself 
as  irreproachably  as  a  Bayard,  whatever  caprice 
my  waywardness  might  develop,  and  I  was  capri- 
cious and  unreasonable  as  a  child  with  a  grown-up 
capacity  for  being  disagreeable.  He  was  right,  I 
was  wrong.  My  head  tells  me  this,  while  my 


82  ONE  SUMMER. 

heart  rises  up  in  wrath  against  him.  How  sorry 
you  will  both  be  !  Would  you  believe  it  1  I  tried 
not  to  care  when  I  saw  that  great  purplish  mark  in 
his  cheek.  I  could  not  help  feeling  distressed, 
though  I  endeavored  to  look  as  stony  as  a  sphinx. 

If  it  were  not  for  him,  Edgecomb  would  be 
Paradis'e.  But  I  suppose  an  earthly  one  must 
always  have  a  serpent,  and  every  little  Miss  Muffit, 
a  great  black  spider  to  come  in  the  way.  He  is 
the  spider  that  drives  me  from  my  curds  and 
whey.  Won't  somebody  have  the  kindness  to 
step  on  him  ] 

These  long,  quiet  days  here  are  too  beautiful. 
I  find  some  lovely  spot  and  read  a  little,  draw  a 
little,  dream  a  little,  and  think  that  you  will  be 
here  soon  to  intensify  my  happiness  ;  and  the 
trees  and  hills  and  waters  are  so  noble,  "  the 
birds  and  the  flowers  are  so  kind,"  that  it  all 
seems  like  an  enchanted  life,  until  suddenly  I  re- 
member my  misdeeds,  and  the  beautiful  illusion 
is  destroyed.  I  cannot  be  happy  here  any  more. 
Jimmie  is  my  only  human  comfort.  He  is,  I  tell 
him,  a  rough  diamond,  and  hereafter  I  shall  spell 
his  name  with  a  G.  He  is  not,  perhaps,  "  of  purest 
ray  serene,"  still  he  is  precious  and  sparkling, 
though  unpolished,  and  he  shall  be  Gem,  not  Jim. 
Dear  child !  He  seems  to  have  the  most  incom- 
prehensible fancy  for  me.  He  left  a  handful  of 
columbines  with  Miss  Phipps  for  me,  long  before 
I  was  awake  one  morning  ;  and  he  went  ever  so 
many  miles  for  a  pretty  species  of  fern  which  he 
had  heard  me  say  I  was  sorry  I  could  not  find 
in  this  vicinity.  He  is  very  bright,  merry,  and 


ONE  SUMMER.  83 

amusing,  and  has  a  loving  heart  and  an  apprecia- 
tive nature  ;  though  he  seemed  to  me  in  the  first 
place  nothing  more  than  a  comical,  impudent  little 
ragamuffin.  Now  I  perceive  respect  for  me  and 
aft'ection  shining  out  through  the  outward  rough- 
ness, —  the  marvellous  language  and  want  of 
training. 

When  do  you  think  you  will  come  1  If  you  do 
not  intend  to  start  in  a  day  or  two,  may  n't  1, 
please  may  I  not,  go  home  'I  I  could  act  as  escort 
for  you,  Bessie,  and  bring  you  down  quite  as  well  as 
Torn  can,  if  he  would  only  think  so  ;  and  it  would 
be  so  much  better  than  staying  here,  and  dreading 
to  stir  for  fear  of  meeting  Mr.  Ogden,  and  doing 
or  saying  some  fatal  thing  which  it  never  entered 
my  head  to  do  or  say  before. 

"  Up  the  airy  mountain, 
Down  the  rushy  glen, 
We  dare  na  go  a-huntin', 
For  fear  of  —  "  P.  Ogden. 

I  wish  he  would  go  away !  I  am  penitent,  very 
penitent,  but  I  never  wish  to  see  him  a^ain 
Literally, 

"  Every  prospect  pleases,  and  only  man  is  vile." 

Come  to  me,  or  let  me  go  to  you,  is  the  prayer 
of 

Your  loving 

LEIGH. 


84  ONE  SUMMER. 

CHAPTER  IX. 

"Still  harping." 

Hamlet. 

SS  LEIGH,  we  got  this  in  a  field  to 
Birch  Point.  Yer  don't  want  it,  do 
yer  1  Yer  would  n't  like  it,  would  yer  ? 
Yer  could  n't  stick  it-  in  yer  hat,  could 
yer  ?  Say  !  " 

Miss  Doane  took  the  long  black  feather  from 
the  boy's  hand,  and  smiled  at  his  eagerness. 

"  It  is  very  pretty,  Gem.     What  is  it  1 " 

"  A  eagle's." 

"An  eagle's,  really1?  'As  a  feather  is  wafted 
downward  from  an  eagle  in  his  flight,'  "  she  re- 
peated dreamily,  standing  in  the  open  doorway 
and  glancing  far  up  above  the  elm-topsj  as  if  she 
could  see  the  slender  thing  descending  through 
the  air.  Then,  to  the  boy :  "  Certainly,  I  would 
like  it,  Gem,  and  thank  you  very  much.  I  never 
saw  one  before.  How  very  glossy  it  is,  and  even, 
as  if  its  edge  were  cut  with  a  knife  !  " 

"  I  s'pose  yer  don't  want  to  put  it  in  yer  hat, 
do  yerl"  said  Gem,  with  pleased,  smiling  eyes, 
while  his  mouth  twitched  violently  in  his  effort  to 
look  indifferent. 

"  Who  was  it  who  wore  an  eagle's  plume  1  Rob 
Roy  ]  Far  better  it  would  suit  a  brave  Highland 
chieftain  than  a  commonplace  young  woman  like 


ONE  SUMMER.  85 

me.  But  since  the  noble  bird  will  not  suspect  to 
what  base  use  we  have  put  it,  I  '11  see  what  can 
be  done  to  please  you,  my  dear." 

She  ran  up  stairs  and  returned  in  a  moment 
with  a  small  black  hat  and  her  work-basket,  and, 
seated  in  the  doorway,  with  Jimmie  on  a  lower 
step,  she  tried  the  effect  of  his  last  offering  at  her 
shrine. 

"  Gem,  it 's  too  long.  I  shall  look  as  tall  as 
Mrs.  Giantess  Blunderbore." 

"  Let 's  cut  it." 

"  It  would  be  a  pity  to  do  that,  unless  I  could 
use  both  parts.  I  do  not  like  to  throw  away  what 
a  friend  brings  me.'  It  is  neither  pleasant  nor 
polite,  is  it,  Gem  1  Ah,  I  know  !  The  tip  I  will 
put  in  my  hat,  quietly,  you  see,  with  an  unob- 
trusive, deprecating  expression,  so  any  mighty 
eagle  soaring  about  will  not  spy  it  and  feel  in- 
sulted, and  pounce  down  and  peck  my  eyes  out ; 
and  the  other  I  will  make  into  a  most  beautiful 
quill  pen.  However  it  may  write,  the  association 
of  ideas  will  be  very  high-toned  indeed.  A  great, 
glorious  eagle,  —  how  much  more  inspiring  his 
quill  ought  to  be  than  that  of  a  common  goose ! 
There,  Gem,  how  is  that  1 "  And  she  put  on  the 
hat,  with  the  little  black  tip  standing  up  jauntily 
behind  some  bows.  "Is  it  about  right1}  Then 
I  '11  fasten  it."  And  off  came  the  hat. 

"  I  told  him  yer 'd  like  it.  I  said  yer'd  put  it 
in  yer  hat,  and  now  yer  have,  have  n't  yer  1 "  said 
Jimmie,  ecstatically. 

Miss  Doane  bent  her  face  over  her  work. 

"  Told  whom,  Gem  1 " 


85  ONE  SUMMER. 

"  Mr.  Ogden.  He  picked  it  up  an'  was  a-goin'  to 
drop  it  over  the  bank,  an'  I  said  I  wanted  it  for 
you." 

Miss  Doaue  colored  furiously.  It  would  be  too 
childish  not  to  wear  it  now  ;  but  how  she  did  want 
to  pull  it  out  !  After  all,  she  reflected,  it  had 
really  nothing  to  do  with  Mr.  Ogden.  She  would 
wear  it,  and  only  remember  little  Gem's  kindness. 

"  He  's  tip-top,  Miss  Leigh.  You  an'  him  are 
the  best  fellers  I  ever  see." 

"  Gem,"  said  the  girl,  gravely,  "I  'm  not  a  feller, 
and  you  should  say  saw  instead  of  see." . 

Unabashed,  Gem  continued,  — 

"  Mr.  Ogden,  he  got  off"  a  mighty  queer  yarn 
yesterday  when  I  told  him  I  knowed  yer  'd  like  the 
feather  cos  yer  allers  liked  the  things  I  had  brung. 
He  thought  as  how  yer  would  n't  want  it,  yer 
know,  and  says  he  — - 

"  Knew,  not  knowed,  and  brought,  not  brung," 
said  Miss  Doane,  oracularly. 

The  importance  of  improving  Jim's  English  was 
at  certain  moments  singularly  urgent.  The  tide 
of  her  criticism,  however,  seemed  to  ebb  and  flow 
in  a  spasmodic,  eccentric  manner. 

Sometimes  he  would  chatter  by  the  hour  with 
never  a  word  of  correction  from  her. 

"  Yes  'm,"  said  Gem,  dutifully.  "  Says  he,  '  Did 
yer  ever  read  about  — '  'bout  a  —  wait  an'  I  '11  tell 
yer  —  it  was  real  funny  —  says  he  —  " 

"  Gem,  how  would  you  like  to  ramble  off  some- 
where with  me  1  This  is  too  fine  a  morning  to 
waste  in  the  house,  or  even  out  here  on  the  steps. 
We  '11  have  a  lovely  outing,  you  and  I  :  and  if  Miss 


ONE  SUMMER.  87 

Phipps  will  give  us  some  lunch,  we  '11  go  off  for  the 
day.  Would  you  like  it  ] " 

"  Would  n't  I  though  1 " 

"  Very  well ;  wait  till  I  get  my  shawl  and  pack 
a  basket.  A  small  and  select  picnic  like  this  will 
be  charming.  You  shall  go  where  you  like.  My 
fate  is  in  your  hands.  I  want  to  see  an  entirely, 
new  spot." 

"  All  right,"  said  Gem,  cheerily.  "I  guess  I 
know  what  will  hit  your  case.  Him  an'  me  was 
down  there,  an'  he  thought  as  how  it  was  a  pooty 
likely  sort  of  a  place.  Says  he  —  " 

"  Excuse  me,  Gem,  but  I  must  go  and  beg  Miss 
Phipps  for  some  things  for  our  basket."  And  Leigh 
sprang  up  quickly  and  vanished  through  an  inner 
door. 

Gem  sat  down  on  the  steps,  scowled,  and  thought 
vigorously.  Presently  he  shouted,  "  I  say  !  Miss 
Leigh  !  "  She  appeared  at  the  dining-room  door. 
As  well  hope  to  stem  a  torrent  with  a  straw  as 
to  interpose  such  trifles  as  grammatical  errors  and 
lunch-baskets  in  the  way  of  Gem's  inevitable  re- 
cital. 

"  Well,  dear,"  she  said  patiently.  Perhaps  after 
the  child  had  freed  his  mind  he  would  be  willing 
to  turn  his  attention  in  some  other  direction. 

"Kim-eleon  was  the  word.  Kimeleon.  Says  he, 
'Didyer  ever  read  about  a  kimeleon  T  Says  I, 'No.' 
Says  he,  '  It 's  a  curious  animal,  an'  you  may  look 
in  my  dictionary  for  it  when  we  go  home,  an'  then 
you  '11  know  another  fack  in  nateral  history,  my 
boy.'  Says  I,  '  Is  it  like  a  eagle  1 '  Says  he,  '  Not 
in  the  least.  It  is  a  animal  that  changes  its  color 


88  ONE  SUMMER. 

more  or  less  with  the  color  of  objects  about  it,  an' 
with  its  temper  when  disturbed.'  He  said  it  to  me 
twice,  an'  I  saw  it  in  his  big  dictionary  afterwards, 
an'  I  learned  the  spellin'  an'  the  meanin'.  There 
was  a  plaguy  long  word  —  " 

"  Gem,"  said  Leigh,  reprovingly. 

"  Well,  awful  long,  then.  It  was  pre-hen-sile. 
Its  tail  is  prehensile.  That  means  it  can  hang  on 
to  things  like  blazes.  Mr.  Ogden  said  that  fack 
did  n't  interest  him  pertickerly.  What  he  liked 
to  meditate  upon  was,  that  its  color  varied  as  its 
temper  was  disturbed.  I  was  a-studyin'  of  it  out 
loud  up  in  his  room,  yer  know,  an'  he  was  a  smok- 
in',  an'  he  larfed  an'  larfed.  He  said  some  folks 
was  like  the  kimeleon." 

Miss  Doane  bit  her  lip,  stood  very  straight,  and 
waited  for  the  boy  to  communicate  his  newly  ac- 
quired knowledge. 

"  Yes,  dear  ;  that  is  very  interesting.  Perhaps 
I  may  be  able  some  time  to  give  }rou  equally  valu- 
able information.  At  present  our  basket  is  the 
more  important  topic.  If  you  and  I  are  hungry,  we 
won't  feel  like  improving  our  minds,  will  we,  Gem  ? 
You  may  come  in,  if  you  like,  and  help  me.  Here 
I  am  like  Charlotte,  cutting  bread  and  butter." 

"  Charlotte  who  ] " 

"  Charlotte  —  I  'm  sure  I  do  not  know  what  her 
other  name  was,  and  it  does  not  matter,  my  dear ;  for 
her  story  would  make  you  neither  so  merry  as  that 
of  Mi-s.  Giantess  Blunderhore,  nor  so  wise  as  the 
dictionary  definition  of  a  chameleon,  so  I  shall  not 
tell  it  to  you,  Jimmie-boy." 

"  Do  yer  want  that  hrnnk  o'  meat,  an'  them  cook- 
ies an'  things  in  ] " 


ONE  SUMMER.  89 

"  Child  !  Child  !  Not  without  a  napkin.  Things 
one  eats  should  look  pretty.  There,  —  this  is  the 
way.  First  the  napkin,  then  the  meat,  sliced  thin, 
so,  between  two  plates.  Why,  Gem,  could  you 
really  eat  it,  dumped  in  your  way  1 " 

"  Course,  I  could.  What 's  the  use  o'  yer  nap- 
kins 1  Yer  can't  eat  'em." 

"  Gem,  you  are  an  untutored  little  savage.  Why, 
do  you  know  I  am  sometimes  very  much  ashamed 
to  eat  at  all,  right  in  the  face  and  eyes  of  a  beau- 
tiful landscape  ?  It  seerns  so  presuming,  such  a 
desecration.  But  there 's  something  in  the  air 
here  that  gives  one  an  unconscionable  appetite. 
—  Miss  Phipps,  you  are  exceedingly  kind.  The 
cream  will  be  very  acceptable.  —  Gem,  run  out  and 
get  me  a  little  bunch  of  sweet-peas.  We  cannot 
eat  them,  but  the  bit  of  bright  shall  serve  to 
beautifv  our  feast,  and  to  elevate  your  ideas,  you 
benighted  boy.  —  I  may  have  them,  may  I  not, 
Miss  Phipps  1  Nothing  more,  thank  you." 

They  started  off  merrily.  Miss  Phipps  gave  a 
shrill  parting  charge  from  the  door  :  — 

"You  be  keerful  about  bringiu'  back  them 
things,  will  yer?" 

"  0,  certainly  !  "  replied  Leigh,  smilingly.  "  We 
will  take  excellent  care  of  everything.  And,"  turn- 
ing to  Jim,  "you  are  going  to  take  care  of  me,  are 
you  not  1  Do  you  know,  Gem,  you  should  offer  to 
take  my  shawl  and  the  books  and  the  umbrella,  as 
well  as  the  basket.  I  should  not  think  of  allowing 
you  to  carry  them  all,  of  course,  but  the  offer  ought 
in  propriety  to  be  made.  The  shawl,  you  see,  hangs 
easily  over  my  shoulder,  the  umbrella  I  wish  to 


90  ONE  SUMMER. 

use  ;  you  and  I  together  can  swing  the  basket  as 
Jack  and  Jill  did  the  pail  when  they  went  up  the 
hill;  and  the  strap,  if  you  please,  you  may  take  in 
your  other  hand.  Still,  Gem,  you  must  offer  to 
carry  everything." 

"  What  for  1 "  said  the  matter-of-fact  Jimmie. 
"  Jest  as  lief  lug  'em  all  as  not,  but  I  ain't  got  but 
two  hands,  an'  ef  yer  've  fixed  things  'bout  as  yer 
want  'em,  what 's  the  use  of  talkin'  1 " 

"  Gem,  Gem,  you  have  yet  to  learn  the  use  of 
the  beautiful.  Courtesy,  my  child,  demands  that 
you  offer  and  that  I  decline.  Exactly  why,  I  am 
not  sure  that  I  know  myself.  It  is  a  little  polite 
social  fiction,  you  see.  However,  I  will  excuse  you 
till  next  time." 

The  boy  listened  with  a  bright,  admiring  look. 
Her  words  were  new  and  strange  to  him.  Her 
meaning  he  rarely  failed  to  grasp. 

"  Miss  Leigh,  you  an'  him  talk  jest  percisely 
alike." 

"  Gem,"  said  she,  abruptly,  "  I  think  I  never 
saw  more  beautiful  clouds.  They  look  like  great 
snowy  meuntains,  do  they  not  1  Alpine  summits." 

"I  know  all  about  'em,"  was  the  complacent  re- 
sponse to  this  burst  of  enthusiasm.  "  He  told  me. 
Them 's  the  cumulus.  Heaps  an'  heaps  on  'em  ain't 
they,  and  jolly  white  1 " 

Leigh  sighed  despairingly.  Could  she  never  be 
free  from  this  incubus  1  Did  it  extend  even  to  the 
clouds  ' 

"  Why,  Gem,  it  is  towards  Birch  Point  we  are 
going,  is  it  not  ]  " 

"  It  is   to   Birch  Point,   if  yer  don't  mind  the 


ONE  SUMMER.  91 

walk.  We  're  goin  the  short  cut.  'T  ain't  more  'n 
three  or  four  miles  this  way.  Him  an'  me  went 
t'  other  way,  an'  he  — 

"  You  dear  little  Gem,  I  would  be  delighted  to 
go  !  I  have  tried  to  sketch  Birch  Point  from  the 
fort.  Now  I  can  see  how  the  fort  looks  from  the 
Point." 

"  There  's  a  cave  there.  Him  an'  me  went  down 
in.  He  is  awful  knowin'.  He  's  learned  me  a  pile 
of  things.  Says  he  — 

"  Taught  rne,"  instantly  corrected  the  oracle. 

"  I  rather  guess  you  an'  him  together  will  make  a 
stunnin'  scholar  of  me,"  said  Jirn,  with  a  chuckle. 

"  'You  an'  him  together!'  Worse  and  worse," 
thought  she.  Severe  criticism  had  failed  to  divert 
Jimmie's  ideas.  Would  a  downright  compliment  be 
of  any  use,  she  wondered. 

"  It  is  a  pleasure  to  teach  you  anything,  you  are 
so  bright  and  remember  so  well,"  she  graciously 
remarked. 

"  Well,  he  says  I  'm  bright.  I  'm  a  awful  block- 
head at  school,  though.  Funny,  ain't  it  1 " 

"  I  think  you  are  very  bright,"  said  Leigh,  reso- 
lutely, ignoring  the  ever-present  "he."  "You 
ought  to  make  a  very  clever  man.  There  may  be 
a  few  things  I  can  teach  you  now,  but  if  you  work 
in  the  right  way,  you  will  know  ever  so  much 
more  than  I  do  when  you  are  twenty." 

"Twenty?  Are  you  twenty]  He's  thirty."  Leigh 
groaned  in  spirit.  "  I  asked  him,  an'  he  told  me,  but 
he  larfed  and  said  I  must  n't  ask  folks  how  old 
they  was,  pertickerly  ladies,  so  I  did  n't  ask  you 
—  but  I  wanted  to  know  awfully,  cos  yer  kinder 


92  ONE  SUMMER. 

young  and  kinder  old,  yer  know.  Sometimes  yer 
don't  seem  no  older  'n  me,  an'  sometimes  yer  act 
as  old  as  the  parson.  I  asked  him  how  old  he 
s'posed  you  was,  an'  he  said  he  s'posed  nothing 
whatever.  '  Far  be  it  from  me,'  says,  he,  '  to  per- 
sume  to  have  any  opinion  on  that  subjeck.'  An' 
he  kinder  larfed.  Odd  talkin'  chap,  ain't  he  ] " 

Leigh,  in  utter  hopelessness,  remained  silent. 
It  was  evidently  useless  to  attempt  to  turn  the 
conversation  into  any  channel  which  would  not 
immediately  lead  to  her  bugbear  and  Gem's  hero. 

On  they  walked,  swinging  the  basket  between 
them.  Suddenly,  Gem  said,  — 

"He  said  'clever.'  I  told  yer,  him  an'  you 
talked  alike.  He  said,  with  the  right  trainin' 
I  'd  make  a  clever  feller." 

"  0  Gem,  Gem,  if  you  only  would  not,  quite  all 
the  time  !  "  thought  Leigh. 

"  An'  I  thought  clever  meant  kinder  good-na- 
tured, but  he  told  me  it  was  jest  the  same  as 
knowin'." 

A  smile  was  her  only  response. 

"  Yer  see,  I  'm  considerable  'stonished,  cos  I 
kinder  got  settled  into  thinkin'  I  was  a  noodle," 
confided  Jimmie,  with  his  head  on  one  side,  and 
casting  a  curious  little  canary-bird  look  up  into  her 
face.  "  Jones,  he  stuck  to  it  three  winters,"  con- 
tinued Gem,  laughing,  "an'  I  begun  to  think  p'r'aps 
he  was  right  about  it,  if  he  was  most  gen'rally  a 
darn  fool." 

"  Jimmie,  really  this  is  dreadful.  You  prom- 
ised not  to  use  such  words,"  said  Miss  Doane,  with 
dignity. 


ONE  SUMMER.  93 

"  Well,  I  won't,  then,"  said  Jim,  half  in  penitence, 
half  in  mischief.  "  I  'm  awful  sorry."  Then,  the 
mischief  predominating,  "  I  won't  say  'em  about 
any  other -feller  if  yer '11  let  me  'bout  Jones,  an'  I 
don't  care  pertickerly  for  darn  if  yer  like  pesky 
any  better,  or  thunderin',  or  any  sech." 

Jim's  naivete,  as  usual,  proved  irresistible.  The 
dignity  vanished,  and  Leigh,  laughing,  inquired,  — 

"  Who  is  this  poor  Mr.  Jones  who  is  doomed  to 
be  called  such  naughty  names  ] " 

"  He 's  the  schoolmarster,"  replied  Gem,  writh 
sublime  contempt.  "  He  don't  know  so  much  as 
once.  The  biggest  noony  yer  ever  did  see,"  said 
he,  with  tremendous  energy.  "  He  cum  down 
from  Ayerville  College  with  his  hair  parted  in  the 
middle.  He  talkth  thith  way,  an'  thays  'my 
de-ah '  to  the  girls.  Kisses  'em  too,  by  thunder, 
when  he  thinks  folks  ain't  round,  an'  lots  of  the 
big  fellers  licked  him  last  winter,  an'  I  rather  guess 
he  ain't  a-comin'  this  way  again.  Not  much,  old 
doughface  !  "  he  added  with  a  sneer. 

Leigh's  spirits  rose.  Here,  at  last,  was  an  all- 
engrossing  topic  upon  which  Gem  should  dilate 
at  his  pleasure.  Contempt  for  the  schoolmaster 
should  be  encouraged. 

"So  Mr.  Jones  thought  that  you  were  not 
bright.  He  was  mistaken,  Gem,  utterly  mis- 
taken." 

"  Well,  yer  see  I  was  kinder  young  an'  small  when 
he  begun,"  said  Gem,  drawing  himself  up  and  look- 
ing as  tall  as  possible.  "  It  was  considerable  time 
ago,  —  three  years  last  winter.  Bein'  only  a  little 
shaver,  I  was  mortal  'fraid  if  he  learned  me  any- 


94  ONE  SUMMER. 

thing  he  kuowed,  I  'd  grow  up  into  jest  such  another 
noodle.  So  I  kinder  got  into  the  habit  of  losin'  my 
books,  an'  never  knowin'  nothin'  at  all,  an'  runnin' 
away  every  chance  I  got,  an'  I  kep'  it  -up  pretty 
stidcly  all  the  time  the  old  donkey  stayed." 

Leigh  was  aware  that  she  ought  to  remonstrate, 
but  she  felt  a  surprising  sympathy  with  Jim,  shar- 
ing his  dislike  for  the  absent  Jones,  and  she  laugh- 
ingly said,  — 

"  What  a  comfort  you  must  have  been  to  the 
poor  man  !  " 

"Ruther  guess  I  was.  Heaps  o1  comfort.  He 
forgot  to  tell  me  so,  though,"  said  Gem,  with  a 
queer  expression,  as  if  recalling  days  gone  by  and 
scenes  with  the  "marster."  "I  can't  help  it,"  he 
exclaimed  vehemently  ;  "  when  I  don't  like  folks  I 
won't  learn  a  blessed  thing,  an'  that 's  the  end  on 
it ;  but,"  he  added  with  immense  enthusiasm,  "  if 
you  an'  Mr.  Ogden,  you  an'  him,  both  of  you  to- 
gether — 

Leigh  had  been  breathing  freely  for  a  few  mo- 
ments. Here  she  actually  shuddered. 

"  If  two  reggler  bricks  like  you  an'  he  want  me 
to  peg  away  at  books  an'  things,  1  11  do  it  sure  's 
yer  born." 

Miss  Doane  threw  her  shawl  upon  the  grass  an' 
sat  down. 

"Tired?" 

"  Not  physically  tired,  Gem,  but  mentally 
stunned.  As  the  French  say,  '  I  can  no  more.' " 
And  she  contemplated  Gem  with  mingled  amuse- 
ment, admiration,  and  dismay.  "  0  Gem,  you  fun- 
ny child  ! "  she  exclaimed,  and,  looking  directly 


OXE  SUMMER.  95 

into  his  merry  eyes,  began  to  laugh  heartily.  Her 
mood  was  contagious.  She  sat  upon  a  little 
mound,  and  Gem  rolled  on  the  grass  and  shouted 
and  shrieked,  and  the  two  good  comrades  laughed 
in  utter  abandonment  and  foolish  unison.  There 
was  small  sense  in  it,  perhaps,  but  they  enjoyed  it, 
and  no  "  rigid  wise  "  person  was  there  to  see  or 
hear  or  condemn  them. 


96  ONE  SUMMER. 


CHAPTER  X. 

"  O  brave  new  world. 
That  has  such  people  in  it !  " 

The  Tempest. 

POINT  will  not  come  to  us,  Gem." 
"  'T  ain't  likely." 

"  Theu  if  we  mean  to  arrive  at  that 
haven  of  rest  before  high  noon,  we  must 
bestir  ourselves.  Hop  up,  child,  and  assume  your 
half  of  the  burden.  Would  any  one  believe  it 
could  seem  so  heavy  1  Lift  it,  Gem.  This  fable 
teaches  us  that  we  must  not  loiter  by  the  wayside 
and  laugh  till  we  are  weak,  the  next  time  we  go  on 
a  pilgrimage  with  a  heavily  laden  basket." 

She  lifted  the  cover.  "See,  Gem.  It  is  actuallv 
full  to  the  brim.  What  could  have  possessed  me  ] 
We  might  lighten,  our  load  a  little.  Gem,  you 
cannot  eat  all  of  those  doughnuts,  unless  you  have 
the  appetite  of  an  anaconda,  can  vou,  now  1 " 

"  Do  yer  ask  honest  Injun,  no  cheatin'  nor 
nothin'  1 " 

"  Certainly.     Perfectly  '  honest  Injun.'  " 

"  Well,  then,  I  guess  if  I  was  you,  I  would  n't 
throw  nothin'  out,  except  them  napkins  and  p'r'aps 
the  plates  if  yer  want  ter  very  bad.  Cos  I  kalker- 
late  them  doughnuts  is  pretty  fair  eatin'.  I  never 
seed  that  ere  thing  yer  said,  an'  I  don't  know  noth- 
in' about  its  appetite,  but  I  reckon  I  can  eat  dough- 
nuts faster  'n  ole  Phipps  can  fry  'em,  anyhow." 


ONE  SUMMER.  97 

"  I  withdraw  my  objection  out  of  respect  to  your 
powers.  Not  a  crumb  shall  be  wasted." 

"  Miss  Leigh,  I  can  carry  this  ere  basket  just  as 
easy  as  stealin'.  'T  ain't  heavier  'n  nothin'.  You 
jest  let  go  on  it.  Come." 

"  No,  sir.  You  will  carry  your  half  and  I  mine. 
But  it  was  right  to  say  that,  dear,  because  you 
thought  I  was  tired  and  warm.  You  were  kind 
and  thoughtful,  Gem.  Always  to  be  so  is  what 
makes  a  man  a  gentleman." 

"  I  s'pose  he  's  lugged  heaps  o'  baskets  an'  things 
for  girls.  He  's  awful  kind,  anyhow.  Jest  your 
sort.  Real  keerful-like,  you  know." 

Leigh's  attention  was  engrossed  by  a  refractory 
glove-button. 

"  He  gave  me  a  reggler  talkin'  to  cos  I  put  a 
snail  onto  the  back  of  Jane  M'ria's  neck  when  she 
was  a-comin'  across  the  barnyard  with  two  big  pails 
o'  milk.  0,  my  !  Yer  ought  ter  have  seen  her ! 
Warn't  she  fun,  though  1  She  hopped,  an'  she 
yelled,  an'  she  dropped  the  milk,  an'  one  of  the 
pails  tipped  clean  over,  an'  marm  she  rowed  it 
awful  strong,  an'  I  hid  in  the  hen-house,  an'  marm 
got  over  her  feelin's,  an'  then  1  come  out.  But 
yer  'd  ought  to  a  heerd  him.  Did  n't  he  give  me 
fits,  and  all  so  quiet  like,  too  !  Don't  yer  never 
tell,  hope  ter  die,  an'  I  '11  yer  somethin'." 

"  I  will  not  tell,  Gem." 

"  He  made  me  cry  like  blazes,"  said  Jim  in  a 
shamefaced  way.  "  Marm,  she  pulls  my  ears  when 
she  's  mad,  an'  kin  ketch  me,  an'  she  allers  rows 
it  considerable,  yer  know,  an'  I  get  used  to  it.  An' 
dad,  he  don't  keer  much  about  nothin',  an'  lets  me 
5  G 


98  ONE  SUMMER. 

alone  pretty  much  ;  an'  when  the  marster  got  red 
in  the  face  and  called  names,  I  thought  it  was  jolly 
good  fun  ;  but  yer  see  he  warn't  like  'em.  No  fel- 
ler could  n't  stau'  it "  —  apologetically.  "  He  made 
me  cry.  He  jest  did.  Dead  earnest  and  no  mis- 
take." 

Perverse  Leigh  was  interested,  but  not  a  word 
would  she  say. 

"  He  sot  me  down  by  the  table  in  his  room," 
continued  the  boy,  in  an  awe-struck  voice.  "  Yer 
see  I  did  n't  keer  about  Jane  M'ria,  an'  marm  she 
did  n't  mind  nothin'  except  the  milk  bein'  spilled, 
an'  I  done  worser  things  than  that  to  make  Jane 
M'ria  jump,  lots  o'  times.  But  he  did  n't  seem  to 
be  a-thinkin'  about  the  milk  at  all." 

Jimmie  looked  thoughtful  as  he  went  on. 

"He  talked  kinder  quiet  like,  yer  see.  He  was 
a  sittin'  by  the  table  too,  an'  sometimes  he  looked 
across  at  me ;  but  he  was  mostly  a-markin'  with  a 
pencil,  an'  he  warn't  very  long  about  it,  neither ; 
but  no  feller  could  n't  stan'  it,  Miss  Leigh." 

"  No,  dear,"  said  Leigh,  softly. 

"  He  said  it  was  onmanly  to  put  a  snail  on  to 
Jane  M'ria.  He  said  as  how  a  boy  could  have  his 
jokes.  Jokin'  was  good  for  boys.  But  this  was 
pooty  mean  jokin'.  That  was  when  he  was  a-begin- 
nin',  yer  see,  an'  I  did  n't  know  how  he  was  a-goin' 
on,  an'  that  I  could  n't  stan'  it  anyhow,  an'  says  I, 
'  Well,  Jane  M'ria  need  n't  go  a-walkin'  along  with 
her  mouth  open,  an'  a-lookin'  as  if  her  senses  had 
gone  off  a-visitiu'.  If  she  warn't  so  queer  I  would  n't 
'a'  wanted  to  put  a  snail  on  her.' 

"An'  he  tol'  me  when  I  fit,  ter  fight  a  boy  my 


ONE  SUMMER.  99 

own  size,  or  bigger  'n  me,  if  I  wanted  ter.  Says  I, 
'  Puttin'  snails  on  ter  Jane  M'ria  ain't  fightin'  any- 
body.' '  Yer  right,'  says  he.  '  It  ain't  fightin';  it 's 
persecution,  Jimmie.'  He  said  he  persumed  I 
would  n't  keer  if  snails  crawled  all  over  me.  Says 
he,  '  Yer  have  n't  got  no  nerves,  Jim  ;  but  yer 
sister  is  timid  an'  nervous,  so  anything  of  this 
kind  is  onfair,  onmanly,  mean,  and  cruel.'  Them  's 
the  words  he  said.  Hittin'  a  feller  when  he  was 
down,  an'  puttiu'  snails  on  to  delicate,  nervous 
girls,  was  all  about  the  same.  An'  then  he  said  I 
was  pretty  manly,  an'  men  did  n't  do  sech  things, 
ah'  he  rather  thought  I  warn't  a-goin'  to  no  more. 

"  An'  I  kinder  choked  up,  an'  that  was  all  I  said. 
An'  says  he,  '  Shake  hands  on  that,  Jim.'  He  was 
kinder  smilin',  yer  see.  An'  sumthin  or  ruther 
made  ine  boohoo  right  out.  An'  he  said  he  was 
goin'  to  look  up  his  fishin'-rod,  an'  when  he  come 
back  he  asked  me  to  go  a-troutin',  an'  he  did  n't 
say  nothin'  more,  yer  know.  We  never  come  home 
till  nigh  sundown.  Got  nine  ;  beauties  they  was, 
too.  Queer  what  made  me  bawl,  warn't  it  ]  He  's 
the  only  feller  that  could  'a'  made  me.  Could  n't 
stan'  it,  nohow.  Nobody  could  n't." 

The  child  related  his  experience  in  a  dramatic 
way  that  commanded  Leigh's  close  attention.  He 
spoke  at  times  in  unconscious  imitation  of  Mr. 
Ogden's  manner.  Involuntarily  a  suspicion  of 
amusement  would  creep  into  his  tone  whenever  he 
alluded  directly  to  that  snail  and  the  luckless  Jane 
M'ria.  He  also  tnanifested  his  usual  faith  in  Mr. 
Ogden's  infallibility,  and  his  own  tears  he  evidently 
regarded  as  a  natural  phenomenon. 


100  ONE  SUMMER. 

"Mr.  Ogden  was  perfectly  right,  Gem."  Leigh 
felt  that  this  approval  of  the  enemy  evinced  a 
greatness  of  soul  to  which  poor  erring  human  na- 
ture rarely  attains.  "  But  you  '11  never  do  so  any 
more,"  she  said  lightly.  "  Do  you  know  you  have 
been  entertaining  me  so  well  the  basket  has  grown 
light  again  ?  And  here  we  are  at  the  Point,  are 
we  not,  you  magnificent  Gem  1  Take  me  to  the 
cove.  If  I  have  a  special  desire  for  anything  in 
the  world,  at  this  moment,  it  is  for  a  good  comfort- 
able rock  with  a  back  to  it,  and  cool  water  rippling 
at  my  feet." 

Past  the  thickly  wooded  hill,  through  fields 
where  were  occasional  clumps  of  poplars  and  pretty 
young  birch-trees,  over  a  rustic  bridge  which 
crossed  a  little  winding  creek,  Jimmie  led  Miss 
Doane,  who  expressed  enthusiastic  delight  at  every- 
thing. 

"  Was  there  ever  such  soft  velvety  grass  and  such 
wavy  land  1  The  woods  look  lovely  off  there,  but 
nothing  can  destroy  my  allegiance  to  the  cove. 
The  cove,  niy  Gem,  is  at  present  my  heart's  de- 
sire." And  soon  she  gained  it.  Nothing  was 
wanting.  The  rock  with  a  back  to  it,  or  the  water 
rippling  at  her  feet. 

Leigh  raised  her  umbrella.  Gem  threw  him- 
self on  the  ground  and  leaned  against  the  rock. 
Both  were  silent.  The  low  ripple  of  the  water 
as  the  incoming  tide  crept  nearer,  the  chirp  of 
grasshoppers,  and  the  distant  note  of  a  wood-bird, 
were  the  only  sounds. 

Gem,  as  usual,  was  revolving  something  in  his 
mind. 


ONE  SUMMER.  101 

"  Miss  Leigh,  what  was  it  }-er  said  about  them 
doughnuts'?" 

"Doughnuts,  Gem?"  with  a  slightly  wandering 
air.  "  I  'm  sure  I  do  not  know.  When  1 " 

"  Yer  said  I  could  n't  eat  'em  all  up  unless  I 
had  a  appetite  like  a  sumthin  or  ruther.  I  never 
seed  one.  I  thought  I  would  ask  yer." 

"  Did  I  say  anaconda  1 " 

"  That 's  the  chap.     What  is  a  anaconda  "?  " 

Leigh's  features  suddenly  and  singularly  changed 
their  expression.  The  air  of  delicious  languor, 
the  dreamy,  far-off  look,  vanished.  Thoroughly 
roused,  with  a  gleam  of  satisfaction  on  her  face 
and  a  wicked  sparkle  in  her  eye,  she  replied  :  — 

"  First  class  in  natural  history,  stand  up.  You 
display  a  thirst  for  knowledge  concerning  the 
anaconda.  It  will  afford  me  pleasure  to  impart 
to  you  my  small  stock  of  information  upon  this 
important  topic.  The  anaconda,  my  dear  young 
friend,  is  a  snake.  Its  distinguishing  character- 
istic is  its  capacity  for  swallowing  anything  and 
everything  it  sees.  It  can  swallow  objects  morally 
and  physically  greater  than  itself,  —  even  as  large 
as  a  young  lady  and  her  umbrella.  Umbrellas 
do  not  agree  with  the  anaconda,  Gem.  The  ana- 
conda belongs  to  the  Boa  family,  which  is  spelled 
B-o-a,  but  strongly  suggests  B-o-r-e.  Some  persons, 
James,"  she  added  seutentiously,  "  resemble  the 
anaconda." 

Gem  eyed  her  curiously. 

"  Jokin',  ain't  yer  1"  ,.,/,- 

"  No,  dear,  not  exactly  ;  but  if  I  have  given  you 
false  ideas,  you  can  correct  them  when  you  study 


102  ONE  SUMMER. 

about  snakes  one  of  these  days.  I  'm  not  wise 
enough  to  repeat  a  definition  from  an  unabridged 
dictionary,  but  I  don't  like  anacondas,  Gem. 
They  take  more  than  their  share  of  things.  Some 
persons  are  exceedingly  like  the  anaconda.  Alto- 
gether a  very  disagreeable  species.  Ugh  !  " 

Having  thus  viciously  given  a  Roland  for  Mr. 
Ogdeu's  Oliver,  she  felt  appeased,  and  turned  in 
a  jubilant  way  to  the  lunch-basket.  Lunch  was 
soon  served  and  soon  over.  Gem  swallowed  Miss 
Phipps's  dainties  and  Miss  Doane's  aphorisms  ap- 
parently with  equal  relish,  and  the  beauties  of 
nature  did  not  materially  affect  the  young  lady's 
appetite,  whatever  may  have  been  her  inward  mis- 
givings with  regard  to  the  propriety  of  having  one. 

"  What  a  lovely,  long,  lazy  afternoon  we  are 
going  to  have,  Gem  ! "  And  she  settled  herself 
comfortably  again,  after  having  repacked  the 
basket,  and  looked  smilingly  at  the  boy.  "  If  our 
consciences  are  clear,  we  ought  to  be  perfectly 
happy." 

"  1  ain't  done  nothin',"  remarked  Jim,  with  an 
air  of  conscious  rectitude. 

"  You  are  fortunate,"  said  Leigh,  amused,  and 
wondering  a  little  about  the  snail  and  the  pre-snail 
period. 

"  I  s'pose  you  ain't  never  done  iiothin'  yer 
had  n't  ought  ter." 

The  green  banks  of  an  island  up  the  river  rose 
solemnly  and  accusingly  out  of  the  water,  and 
stared  at  guilty  Leigh. 

"  1 1  0,  frequently,  Gem  !  Constantly,  I  might 
say." 


ONE   SUMMER.  103 

Gem  looked  incredulous.  He  would  believe 
anything  she  could  tell  him  about  long  words, 
strange  animals,  and  the  habits  of  polite  society, 
but  this  was  too  much.  His  goddess  had  no 
human  attributes.  She  had  never  put  snails  on 
people,  nor  robbed  orchards,  nor  tied  saucepans 
to  cats'  tails. 

Leigh  knew  that  he  was  puzzled. 

"  My  dear,  I  mean  that  1  do  things  that  are 
just  as  naughty  in  me  as  putting  snails  on  Jane 
Maria  was  in  you.  My  snails  are  of  a  different 
kind,  but  they  are  very  snaily  sometimes.  It  is 
a  perverse  world,  Jimmie-boy,  and  when  you  and 
I  feel  like  throwing  snails  at  people  we  'd  better 
shut  our  teeth  together  hard  and  run  away.  If 
we  stay  where  the  snails  and  the  people  are,  we 
shall  surely  do  what  we  '11  be  sorry  for.  All  of 
which  is  a  very  poor  sermon.  I  do  not  preach 
well,  dear.  My  strongest  talent,  I  have  just  dis- 
covered, lies  in  lecturing  upon  natural  history." 

Chatting  lazily,  Leigh  passed  the  long  summer 
afternoon.  It  seemed  singular  that  she  had  be- 
come so  attached  to  this  curious  child  that  she  did 
not  weary  of  his  presence  and  incessant  question- 
ing. She  knew  that  a  long,  perfectly  quiet  day- 
like  this  would  be  intolerable  with  an  uncongenial 
companion.  What  torture  to  sit  upon  a  river- 
bank  for  hours  with  a  "  watery  smile  and  educated 
whisker,"  the  typical  society-man  in  a  certain  set 
at  home,  she  thought.  There  are  some  things 
one  must  enjoy  alone  or  with  a  perfectly  sym- 
pathetic nature.  People  who  are  n't  responsive 
are  so  tiresome.  And  this  funny  little  friend. 


104  ONE  SUMMER. 

Was  he  responsive  1  Sympathetic  ]  Unquestion- 
ably. She  looked  at  him  earnestly,  trying  to 
fancy  what  manner  of  man  he  might  become. 
He  was  whistling  in  a  pleasantly  subdued  way, 
and  employing  his  superfluous  energies  in  fashion- 
ing a  boat,  with  his  knife,  from  a  piece  of  wood 
he  had  picked  up.  Gazing  at  the  clouds  and  the 
river  running  by,  and  building  air-castles  might 
do  for  Miss  Doane.  Sturdy  Gem  preferred  whit- 
tling. 

Leigh  noticed  the  well-shaped  head  bent  over 
his  work,  the  breadth  of  the  slightly  projecting 
brow,  the  strange  keenness  of  the  deeply  set  gray 
eyes,  the  flexible,  refined  lips.  He  kept  them 
closed,  too.  She  believed  he  was  the  only  boy  in 
Edgecomb  who  did  not  habitually  go  about  with 
his  mouth  open.  The  thick  mass  of  his  bright 
brown  hair  was  cut  in  a  jagged  and  incomprehen- 
sible way,  —  possibly  by  the  maternal  Holbrook's 
sheep-shears.  His  face  was  sunburnt  and  freck- 
led and  scratched ;  his  hands  torn  by  brambles 
and  rough  fences.  Yet,  in  spite  of  everything,  he 
was  a  "  bonnie,  bonnie  bairn." 

Gem  glanced  up  and  met  her  intense  gaze. 

"What  is  it,  Miss  Leigh1?" 

"  What  is  what  1 " 

Gem  laughed. 

"  I  don't  know  exakly.  Yer  looks  said  sum- 
thin'." 

"  Did  they,  dear  ]      I   was  wondering   what   I 
should  have  done  down  here  without  my  Gem." 
'    Gem's  brown  cheeks  grew  rosy  with  pleasure. 

"  If  folks  was  like  you  an'  he,  an'  if  folks  warn't 


ONE  SUMMER.  ]Q5 

continooally  a-callin'  other  folks  names  an'  a-pullin' 
of  other  folks's  ears,  there  'd  be  more  fun  in  it,"  he 
muttered. 

Possessing  the  key  to  Gem's  enigmatical  re- 
marks, Leigh  interpreted  this  speech  as  a  graceful 
acknowledgment  of  her  kindness  and  a  discreet 
allusion  to  home-difficulties. 

"  Gem,  would  n't  you  like  me  to  tell  -  you  a 
story  1 "  she  said  kindly.  "  What  kind  of  a  one  do 
you  prefer  1 " 

"  Most  anythiu',  I  guess,  only  I  ain't  fond  of 
Sunday-school  books.  Them  pious  boys  allers 
gits  hurt  or  surnthin'.  I  ain't  fond  on  'em,  Miss 
Leigh.  S'pose  yer  tell  a  bear-fightin'  yarn. 
Make  the  bear  awful  big,  an'  monstrous  ugly, 
an'  hungrier  'n  nothin',  cos  he  ain't  had  a  scrap 
of  a  thing  ter  eat  fur  eight  days." 

"  What  a  dreadful  vision,  Gem  !  I  can  almost 
hear  him  growl.  My  education  has  been  neg- 
lected, I  am  afraid,  for  bear -hunting  is  Sanscrit  to 
me.  You  may  tell  me  a  bear-story  some  time. 
To-day  I  will  tell  you  something  very  old  and 
sweet,  that  I  used  to  read  when  I  was  your  age, 
and  that  I  like  just  as  well  now." 

"  Fire  away.  Guess  I  shall  like  it,  if 't  ain't 
about  them  pious  chaps  what  gits  crushed  under 
wheels  an'  says  hymns  an'  dies  happy.  I  ain't 
fond  on  'em,  yer  know." 

"  Don't  be  alarmed,  Gem,"  said  Leigh,  laughing. 
"  It  is  nothing  of  that  description,  I  assure  you. 
I  am  afraid  I  know  even  less  of  such  boys  than  of 
bears." 

Then  she  began  :  — 
5* 


106  OXE  SUMMER. 

"  Once  upon  a  time,  long,  long  ago,  there  was  a 
great,  strong,  beautiful,  wise,  good  king,  and  he 
lived  far  away  over  the  sea.  It  was  ages  ago,  and 
far,  far  away,  but  his  country  was  a  little  like 
this,  perhaps." 

Amused  at  herself,  yet  eager  to  discover  the  re- 
semblance, Leigh  rose,  and,  shading  her  eyes  with 
her  hand,  threw  a  long,  searching  look  upon  the 
surrounding  landscape.  North  and  south,  east 
and  west,  she  gazed,  then  with  a  satisfied  air,  as 
her  glance  fell  on  the  gleaming  river,  "  It  might 
be  flowing  down  to  Camelot,"  she  said.  "Only  a 
wee  bit  of  magic,  Gem,  and  we  'd  have  four  gray 
walls  and  four  gray  towers  over  on  the  island,  and 
sleepy  white  lilies  all  around  it,  and  the  heavy 
barges  moving  slowly  up  and  down  the  river,  and 
gay  little  boats  dancing  by  ;  and  over  there  would 
be  the  winding  road  where  the  red-cloaked  market- 
girls  would  pass,  and  where  stately  knights  in 
shining  ai'mor  would  ride,  and  sometimes  a  lazy 
old  abbot,  and  sometimes  a  dainty,  graceful  page. 
And  there,"  pointing  down  the  river,  "  would  rise 
the  towers  of  beautiful  Camelot,  the  royal  city. 
Yes,  I  know  it  was  like  this ! "  she  exclaimed. 

Gem  calmly  whittled.  No  person  could  have 
been  more  ignorant  nor  more  indifferent  than  he 
concerning  the  scenery  in  the  suburbs  of  Camelot, 
and  Miss  Doane  might  air  her  little  poetical  com- 
parisons undisturbed  by  doubt  or  sneer. 

"When  this  great,  beautiful,  wise,  good  king  —  " 

"  Strong,"  instantly  corrected  Gem.  "  You  said 
'  strong '  before,  and  this  time  you  said  all  the  rest 
of  'em  an'  left  '  strong  '  out." 


ONE  SUMMER.  107 

"  My  dear,  if  I  were  an  accomplished  story- 
teller I  should  know  how  to  vary  my  adjectives. 
However,  he  was  strong." 

"  How  strong-*1? " 

This  simple  inquiry,  in  a  business-like  tone,  was 
a  wet-blanket  on  Leigh's  enthusiasm.  She  did  not 
know  how  strong  a  modern  Samson  ought  to  be 
in  order  to  find  favor  with  Gem.  It  was  impos- 
sible for  her  to  form  any  estimate  of  the  number 
of  pounds  avoirdupois  that  her  shadowy  hero  of 
the  past '  had  been  .able  to  lift.  Puzzled,  she 
said,  — 

"  Why,  really,  Gem,  I  do  not  know.  He  was  as 
strong  and  as  brave  as  it  was  possible  to  be." 

"  Bet  Mr.  Ogden  could  'a'  licked  him,  and  done 
it  easy,  'thout  harf  try  in'.  Bet  yer  ten  cents. 
Come,  now ! " 

"Indeed  he  could  not,"  said  Leigh,  with  indig- 
nant emphasis.  "  Now,  Gem,  you  must  not  inter- 
rupt, please,  for  I  have  ever  so  much  to  tell,  and 
it  's  growing  late.  When  this  glorious  king  —  his 
name  was  Arthur  —  came  to  his  throne,  there  were 
cruel  wild  men  whom  he  had  to  conquer,  and 
cruel  wild  beasts  that  he  must  kill."  Gem 
stopped  whittling  and  looked  up.  Thus  encour- 
aged, Leigh  went  on  boldly.  "  There  were  bears, 
Gem,  and  dragons,  and  snakes,  and  lions,  and 
tigers  — 

"  My  eye  ! "  exclaimed  Gem,  in  ecstasy. 

—  "  And  every  kind  of  a  horrible,  growling,  howl- 
ing, gnashing  thing  you  can  imagine.  And  there 
were  maidens  to  be  taken  out  of  deep  dark  dun- 
geons where  wicked  tyrants  had  thrown  them,  and 


108  OXE  SUMMER. 

castles  and  lands  to  be  restored  to  their  rightful 
owners,  and  altogether  much  need  of  the  good 
king,  and  much  work  for  him  to  do.  And  he 
gathered  the  young  men  of  his  kingdom  about 
him,  and  made  some  lovely  laws  for  them.  And 
these  men  were  brave  and  fierce  in  battle,  but 
gentle  and  courteous  to  each  other  and  to  all 
women.  If  a  man  were  lame,  deformed  in  any 
way,  they  would  forgive  him  if  sometimes  he  wras 
rude  and  ungentle  in  speech  or  manner.  They 
thought  it  was  a  part  of  his  infirmity.  But  they 
were  so  strong  and  brave  and  beautiful,  they 
believed  there  was  no  excuse  if  they  were  not 
always  kind  and  courtly  to  the  lowliest  person  as 
to  the  king  himself,  and  especially  to  any  woman 
who  needed  aid  and  comfort.  They  thought 
strength  should  be  generous  to  weakness,  and 
men  are  stronger  than  women,  you  know,  dear. 
Sir  Launcelot,  was  the  most  famous  knight.  In  a 
very  old  book  this  was  written  of  him  :  'Ah  !.  Sir 
Launcelot,  there  thou  liest  that  wert  never 
matched  of  earthly  knights'  hands.  Thou  wert 
the  fairest  person  and  the  goodliest  of  any  that 
rode  in  the  press  of  knights.  Thou  wert  the  tru- 
est friend  to  thy  sworn  brother  of  any  that  ever 
bestrode  horse.  Most  courteous  wert  thou  and 
gentle  of  all  that  sat  in  hall  among  dames.  And 
thou  wert  the  sternest  knight  to  thy  mortal  foe 
that  ever  laid  spear  in  the  rest.' 

"  There  were  ever  so  many  knights,  Gem,  and 
such  lovely  stories !  You  will  read  them  all  some 
day.  Only,  dear,  you  see  that  they  were  not 
ashamed  to  do  little  trifling  kind  things  for  people. 


ONE  SUMMER.  109 

They  forbore  their  own  advantage.  They  never 
used  rough,  hard  words." 

Gem  sat  with  drooping  eyelids,  nervously  open- 
ing and  shutting  his  knife. 

"  Say  that  again,  will  yer,  about  that  chap  with 
the  spear." 

Leigh  again  repeated  "  There  thou  liest,  Sir 
Launcelot." 

Gem's  face  worked  queerly. 

Leigh  was  amazed  at  the  effect  her  words  had 
produced.  It  was  difficult  even  for  her  to  realize 
how  utterly  new  these  ideas  were  to  Gem.  It  was 
indeed  another  world  opening  before  poor  pagan 
Jimmie,  whose  ideas  of  right  and  wrong,  of  the 
wildest  description,  were  derived  from  sickly  nar- 
ratives in  which  virtue  was  clothed  in  revolting 
colors  and  invariably  came  to  some  pitiful,  man- 
gled end ;  and  so  it  happened  that  he  had  dreaded 
holy  people  as  one  dreads  disease,  and  never  for 
one  moment  in  his  lawless  little  life  had  he 
wanted  "to  be  an  angel."  There  was,  then,  ac- 
cording to  Miss  Leigh,  a  theory  of  goodness  that 
would  not  make  him  like  stuffy  old  Deacon  Potter, 
nor  yet  like  the  suffering  heroes  in  the  Sunday- 
school  books. 

"  Was  the  little  fellers  like  the  big  ones  ] " 

"  I  presume  so." 

Gem  looked  unhappy. 

"  What  is  it,  dear  ] " 

"  Snails,"  was  the  laconic  response. 

"  Gem,  we  will  bury  those  snails  out  of  sight. 
The  knights  of  the  Round  Table  would  undoubt- 
edly have  put  you  in  durance  vile  for  that  little 


110  ONE  SUMMER. 

eccentricity.  But  they  believed  that  big  men,  and 
little  men  too,  need  not  be  naughty  always  be- 
cause they  were  naughty  once.  And  if  they 
could  see  you  taking  such  good  care  of  a  forlorn 
damsel  far  away  from  friends  and  home,  showing 
me  the  sweetest  spots  in  the  world,  bringing  me 
ferns  and  mosses  when  you  care  nothing  for  such 
things  yourself,  leading  me  so  carefully  over  boggy 
places  and  rough  roads,  amusing  me  and  makiug 
my  days  so  much  less  lonely  and  less  long,  and 
being  altogether  such  a  faithful  little  squire,  such 
a  tender  and  true  little  friend,  why,  Gem,  they 
would  be  proud  of  you,  as  I  am.  They  would  for- 
give the  snail  episode,  provided  your  good  sister 
would,  and  by  and  by  they  would  make  a  Sir  Gem 
of  you,  aud-you  would  be  my  knight." 

Gem  was  more  moved  than  he  cared  to  show. 
Still  the  knife  blade  snapped  and  the  little  boat 
lay  idly  by  his  side. 

"  You  are  my  little  knight.  See  !  here  are  my 
colors."  She  took  off  her  hat,  untied  a  narrow 
violet  ribbon  from  her  hair,  and,  quickly  fashioning 
it  into  a  knot  with  floating  ends,  pinned  it  to  the 
boy's  rough  jacket.  "  The  old  days  are  gone,  but 
people  are  the  same,  I  suppose,  after  all.  You  will 
have  no  dragons  to  slay,  nor  anything  dreadful  to 
do  for  me,  but  you  may  keep  my  colors,  and  they 
will  say  to  you  that  I  love  and  trust  you,  and  be- 
lieve that  you  are  a  brave  little  man  who  is  going 
to  be  gentle  as  well  as  strong,  gentle  because  he  i» 
strong." 

A  month  before  Gem  would  have  looked  with 
impish  derision  upon  a  scene  like  this,  and  received 


ONE  SUMMER.  m 

the  colors  and  Leigh's  little  presentation-speech  with 
a  demoniac  howl.  Now  it  all  seemed  right  and  nat- 
ural enough.  It  was  Leigh's  way  of  doing  things, 
perhaps;  or  it  may  be  Jimmie  had  found  his 
soul. 

Casting  a  pleased  look  at  his  badge  of  honor,  and 
passing  his  hand  over  it  with  a  grimy  caress,  not 
likely  to  improve  the  delicate  hue  of  the  ribbon,  he 
said,  — 

l<  How  long  did  them  fellers  keep  it  up  1  Was 
they  allers  keerful  about  fightin'  hard  an'  talkin' 
easy  1 " 

"  No,  dear.     Evil  crept  in  among  them  finally." 

"  What  became  o'  the  smart  chap  ]  " 

"  Arthur  was  borne  away  to  fairy-land  in  an  en- 
chanted barge,  and  — : 

"  He  ain't  the  one  I  mean.  I  like  t'  other  feller 
best." 

"  Gem,  it  is  odd,  but  I  always  liked  Launcelot 
better,  myself.  But  we  ought  n't.  He  was  not 
nearly  so  good  as  Arthur." 

"  Can't  help  it,"  persisted  Gem.  "  1  '11  bet  on 
the  chap  with  the  spear  every  time.  He  's  jest 
like  Mr.  Ogden,  percisely." 

Leigh  tried  to  imagine  the  stately  Launcelot 
marching  a  luckless  maiden  several  weary,  wretched, 
muddy  miles,  and  leaving  her  to  trudge  back  alone 
as  best  she  might,  or  taking  a  two-dollar  bill  out 
of  his  vest-pocket,  or  prying  into  a  young  lady's 
sketch-book.  He,  the  anaconda,  like  Sir  Launce- 
lot, indeed  ! 

Gem  at  that  moment  sprang  to  his  feet  with  a 
spirited,  "  By  thunder  !  there  he  is  !  "  and  pranced 


112  ONE  SUMMER. 

down  to  the  water  like  a  mad  creature.  "Ship 
ahoy  ! "  he  shouted,  making  a  speaking-trumpet  of 
his  two  hands.  "  Ahoy,  I  say  !  Mr.  Ogden-n-n-n  ! 
He  's  put  about.  He  's  a-comin',"  he  said,  turning 
and  nodding  encouragingly  to  Leigh. 

She  would  if  possible  have  curbed  Gem's  impet- 
uous movements ;  but  that  brilliant  youth  had 
flashed  like  a  meteor  beyond  her  reach  and  influ- 
ence before  she  realized  his  intentions.  The  fatal 
deed  was  done,  Mr.  Ogden  summoned,  and  his 
boat  swiftly  approaching,  and  she  could  only  make 
ready  her  weapons,  offensive  and  defensive.  The 
wherry  turned  into  the  cove,  making  for  that  point 
on  the  shore  where  a  small  figure  was  capering 
about  wildly,  and  sending  characteristic  shouts  of 
welcome  over  the  water. 

"  Ain't  she  a  beauty  !  Ain't  she  a  bird  !  Here 's 
me,  an'  here  's  her,  an'  here  's  every  blessed  one 
of  us." 

Philip  brought  the  boat  plumplv  up  on  the  shore. 
Turning  his  head  just  enough  to  see  the  inimitable 
Jim,  but  not  sufficiently  to  command  a  view  of  that 
dignified  young  person  who  stood  with  an  air  of 
elegant  unconcern  farther  up  the  bank,  he  said  care- 
lessly, "  Jump  in,  old  fellow,"  never  dreaming  but 
that  Jim  was  alone,  and  that  he  wished  to  avail 
himself  of  the  opportunity  of  a  row  home.  Blind 
and  obtuse  man,  who  had  caught  but  a  part  of  the 
child's  remarks,  and  fancied  "  here  's  her  "  referred 
to  the  wherry. 

"  0,  come  now,  take  her !  She  ain't  a  mite 
afraid.  She  'd  like  to  go  first-rate,  would  n't  y?r, 
Miss  Leigh  1" 


ONE  SUMMER.  113 

"  No,  I  thank  you,  Gem,  not  to-night,  if  you 
please,"  "  a  voice  replied  far  up  the  height,"  —  a 
voice  which  sounded  mischievous  in  spite  of  itself, 
and  which  gave  Mr.  Ogden  his  first  intimation  of  the 
presence  of  a  third  person.  Surprised,  he  turned 
quickly,  and  saw  Miss  Doane  leaning  in  assumed 
nonchalance  against  a  great  rock.  In  her  hand  was 
the  famous  umbrella,  which,  like  the  "  snow-white 
plume  "  of  King  Henry  of  Navarre,  was  always  in 
the  thickest  of  the  fight.  The  low  light  from  the 
western  sky  behind  her,  shining  through  her  pret- 
ty hair,  made  a  golden  halo  round  a  head  which,  it 
is  evident,  was  not  that  of  a  saint. 

He  was  for  an  instant  thrown  off  his  guard. 
Leigh  saw  it  with  wicked  joy. 

"  I  beg  a  thousand  pardons,  Miss  Doane.  I  did 
not  see  you  until  this  moment." 

"  That  is  not  of  the  slightest  consequence,  Mr. 
Ogden,"  she  returned  with  ineffable  dignity,  put- 
ting on  her  hat  and  throwing  her  shawl  over  her 
shoulders. 

"  Gem,  are  you  coming  with  me,  or  do  you  pre- 
fer to  row  back  ?  "  she  calmly  inquired. 

Gem  looked  blank. 

"  A  child  may  say  '  Amen  ' 
To  a  bishop's  prayer,  arid  see  the  way  it  goes  "  ; 

and  Gem,  though  all  unused  to  the  inscrutable 
ways  of  society,  and  to  the  method  by  which  young 
ladies  and  gentlemen  ceremoniously  scratch  out 
one  another's  eyes,  could  yet  perceive  that  a  heavy 
cloud  hung  gloomily  between  his  two  bright  par- 
ticular stars. 


114  OXE  SUMMER. 

Looking  with  disappointed,  wondering  eyes  from 
his  beloved  boatman  to  Leigh,  he  said  sadly,  — 

"  I  brung  yer  here,  an'  I  '11  see  yer  home  ;  but  if 
yer  'd  only  jest  get  into  his  wherry  an'  —  " 

"  Come,  dear,"  said  Leigh,  impressively.  "  It  is 
growing  very  late." 

She  felt  that  at  last  her  star  was  in  the  ascend- 
ant. While  the  enemy,  unconscious  of  her  pres- 
ence, had  drawn  up  to  the  shore  and  sat  with  back 
turned  and  unconscious  mien,  she  had  had  time 
to  observe  the  ludicrous  elements  of  the  scene  as 
well  as  to  prepare  for  battle.  This  temporary 
advantage  she  fully  appreciated,  and,  together  with 
poor  Gem's  bewilderment  .and  comical  chagrin,  it 
had  the  effect  of  somewhat  diminishing  the  resent- 
ment she  had  previously  cherished  towards  Mr. 
Ogden.  Still,  it  was  with  a  superb  and  lofty  air 
that  she  condescended  to  make  a  slight  inclination 
in  the  direction  of  the  boat,  and  a  most  majestic 
"  Good  evening,  Mr.  Ogden,"  that  she  deigned  to 
bestow  upon  him. 

"  Good  evening,  Miss  Doane,"  was  the  stiff  re- 
sponse. "  Come  up  to  my  room  when  you  get 
back,  will  you,  Jim  ? " 

"  All  right,"  said  the  boy,  subdued  bevond 
belief. 

The  two  figures  climbing  the  bank,  as  before 
swinging  the  basket,  stood  out  boldly  in  the  mel- 
low sunset  light. 

Philip  could  hear  their  voices,  and  the  free, 
merry  laugh  with  which  Leigh  greeted  some  of 
Gem's  philosophy. 

"  The  vials  of  her  wrath  she  delights  to  empty 


ONE  SUMMER.  115 

on  my  head  ;  while  to  my  friend  Jim  she  is  all 
softness  and  sunshine.  She  honored  rne  this 
evening  by  calling  me  by  my  name,  which  is  more 
than  she  deigned  to  do  at  our  last  interview  of 
refrigerator  memory.  Yet,  '  To  err  is  feminine, 
to  forgive  impossible,'  is  no  doubt  her  motto. 
Did  Edgecomb  throw  a  glamour  over  her,  or  had 
she  in  propria  persona  that  picturesque,  wood- 
nymph  look  1  How  she  manages  to  start  up  sud- 
denly out  of  the  ground  and  make  a  picture  of 
herself !  "  he  thought,  recalling  her  attitude  as  she 
stood  with  her  hat  in  her  hand,  her  lovely  face 
slightly  flushed  by  her  long  day  of  wandering, 
and  her  shining  hair  roughened  by  little  breezes. 
Likening  her  to  the  Lorelei,  and  feeling  like  beg- 
ging his  own  pardon  for  so  execrable  a  pun,  he 
pulled  with  strong,  steady  stroke  out  of  the  cove 
and  up  the  river. 


116  ONE  SUMMER. 


CHAPTER  XI. 


'  The  gentler-born  the  maiden,  the  more  bound, 
My  father,  to  be  sweet  and  serviceable 
To  noble  knignts  in  sickness,  as  you  know, 
When  these  have  worn  their  tokens.  " 


OBERT,    Robert,   toi    que  j'aime,"    sang 
Leigh,    with   operatic   abandon,    as   she 
dusted    her    books,     arranged     a     few 
flowers,  and  shook  her  table-cover  vigor- 
ously out  of  a  window. 

Loud  and  clear  and  happy  sounded  her  morning- 
carol  to  Philip  Ogden's  ears  as  he  passed  under  the 
elrns  and  up  the  old-fashioned  paved  walk  that 
led  from  the  gate  to  the  door.  Wide  open  were 
the  three  windows  of  the  girl's  room.  In  came 
the  sunshine  and  light  morning  breeze,  and  out 
went  the  flood  of  melody.  More  extravagant  and 
audacious  grew  the  singer  every  moment,  until, 
after  improvising  a  marvellous  cadenza,  the  like  of 
which  was  never  attempted  upon  any  known  stage, 
and  executing  what  might  be  called  an  impossible 
trill,  she  concluded  her  efforts  with  a  defiant  little 
shriek  on  the  highest  note  she  could  reach,  and 
stopped  to  regain  her  breath.  And  Philip,  stand- 
ing down  at  the  porch,  feeling  like  a  wretched 
intruder,  or  as  if  he  had  been  again  discovered 
gazing  in  her  sketch-book,  knowing  well  that  he 
was  the  last  person  in  the  world  whom  Miss 


ONE  SUMMER.  117 

Doane  would  have  selected  to  represent  an  enrap- 
tured audience,  thought  that  a  kindred  impulse 
to  that  which  made  Jim  stand  on  his  head  and 
turn  handsprings  was  animating  this  many-sided 
young  lady. 

The  sunshine  and  warmth,  her  sweet  fresh 
youth  and  health,  and  a  dash  of  childlike  fun, 
were  all  expressed  in  the  glad  notes  she  poured 
forth  with  such  delicious  freedom  as  she  moved 
about  her  room.  The  gentlemanly  anaconda,  fol- 
lowing the  instincts  of  his  nature,  swallowed  the 
happy  tones  and  the  picture  they  suggested. 

The  girl's  voice  sounded  childlike  and  innocent. 
He  was  sorry  when  she  stopped.  He  liked  to 
hear  her,  as  one  likes  anything  joyful  and  fresh 
and  free.  The  chameleon  had  never  before  pre- 
sented to  his  gaze  so  attractive  a  hue. 

Not  wishing  to  deliberately  put  himself  in  the 
way  of  meeting  Miss  Doane,  he  had  come  there 
that  morning  most  unwillingly,  and  only  because 
he  could  not  in  kindness  refuse.  Now  he  was  not 
sorry.  He  was  quite  unused  to  girls  and  their 
little  home-ways,  and  he  felt  kindly  and  cordially, 
for  the  moment,  to  this  girl  of  the  happy  voice 
with  the  "  fun  "  in  it,  who  busied  herself  about  her 
room  and  sang  in  the  morning  sunshine  for  pure 
gladness  of  heart.  He  was  grateful  for  the 
glimpse  she  had  all  unconsciously  given  him  of 
her  real  self,  although  he  knew  it  was  highly 
probable  that  she  would  clothe  herself  with  pride 
as  with  a  garment,  and  descend  that  quaint  old 
staircase  with  all  the  majesty  of  a  line  of 
kings. 


118  ONE  SUMMER. 

"  Robert,  Robert,"  began  the  girl  with  renewed 
energy. 

Philip  had  knocked  once,  and  patiently  waited 
for  somebody  to  appear. 

No  one  came. 

Bees  buzzed  about  the  honeysuckles  by  the 
porch,  the  fragrance  of  sweet-peas  and  great  white 
lilies  stole  round  pleasantly  from  the  garden  at 
the  side  of  the  house,  the  sun  shone  in  through 
the  open  door  on  the  faded  oil-cloth,  and  above, 
Leigh  was  attempting  another  extravaganza.  He 
ventured  once  more  to  raise  the  heavy  knocker. 
Leigh,  deeply  absorbed,  heard  nothing  but  her  own 
voice,  of  which  the  volume  of  tone  was  no  slight 
thing. 

Miss  Phipps  at  last  opened  a  door  at  the  end  of 
the  hall  and  peered  out  curiously. 

"  Oh  !  "  she  said,  advancing.  "  My  hands  was  in 
the  dough,  an'  I  did  n't  know  but  she  was  round 
somewheres.  Oh  !  You  're  the  one  as  was  here 
before,  ain't  yer  1  Be  yer  any  relation  o'  hern  1  " 

"  I  have  not  that  honor,"  said  the  young  man, 
amiably.  "  Will  you  be  kind  enough  to  give  this  to 
Miss  DoaneT'  extending  his  card. 

Miss  Phipps  slowly  drew  her  spectacle-case  from 
her  pocket,  the  spectacles  from  the  case,  and,  as 
on  the  pi*evious  occasion  when  Mr.  Ogclen  had  ap- 
peared at  her  door,  subjected  him  and  his  card  to 
a  severe  scrutiny,  which  he  bore  unflinchingly. 

"  That 's  her  up  there  a-hollerin."  Having  com- 
municated the  self-evident  fact,  she  added  :  "  She 
allers  screeches  mornin's  when  she  's  a-fixin'  her 
flowers.  Thought  she  'd  make  me  deef  when  she 


OXE  SUMMER.  H9 

first  come.  Used  to  it  now.  Like  to  hear  her 
goinVou.  Sounds  kinder  cheerful-like,  don't  it, 
now  ? "  And  a  smile  actually  hovered  for  a  mo- 
ment over  her  grim  features. 

Philip  civilly  said  "  Very,"  and  mildly  renewed 
his  suggestion  that  his  card  should  be  presented 
to  the  attic  warbler. 

Whereupon  Miss  Phipps  shouts  from  the  foot  of 
the  stairs,  with  force  sufficient  to  interrupt  Leigh 
in  one  of  her  most  elaborate  and  impassioned 
nights. 

"Yes,  Miss  Phipps,  what  is  it?"  comes  pleasantly 
down  in  her  ordinary  voice. 

It  does  not  occur  to  her  to  move  from  her  apart- 
ments, knowing  the  usual  tenor  of  Phipps's  remarks. 
Does  she  want  the  apple-pies  sweetened  with  sugar, 
or  molasses,  and  will  she  have  caraway-seeds  in  the 
cookies,  or  something  of  similar  import,  Leigh  ex- 
pects to  be  asked. 

Instead,  distinct  and  shrill  from  the  foot  of  the 
stairs  ascend  these  ominous  words,  — 

"  Mr.  Phillup  Ogdin  "  —  '  0-gden  '  she  called 
it,  reading  from  the  card,  and  suggesting  "ogre" 
to  her  listeners  —  "  is  a-waitin'  down  here  to  see 
yer." 

Gone  are  the  merry  roulades,  and  "  all  the  air  a 
solemn  stillness  holds." 

The  silence  above  can  be  felt. 

Below,  the  ancient  Phipps  remarks  audibly,  — 

"  Her  door  's  open.  She  's  up  there,  an'  she  's 
heerd.  I  don'  know  why  she  don't  answer,  but  I 
s'pose  she  '11  come  down  when  she  gits  ready." 
With  which  eminently  cheering  and  sagacious  an- 


120  OXE  SUMMER. 

nouncement,  after  inviting  Philip  to  "come  in  an' 
take  a  cheer,"  and  imparting  the  valuable  informa- 
tion that  "  sittin'  's  as  cheap  as  standin,"  her  tall, 
gaunt  figure  vanishes  from  his  gaze,  and  she  goes 
where  her  dough  awaits  her. 

Presently  Leigh,  with  lady-like  composure,  comes 
down  the  broad  staircase.  Certainly  no  mortal  could 
accuse  that  demure  damsel  of  ever  raising  her 
voice  above  regulation  rules  and  shouting  for  joy. 

She  realized  that  he  must  have  heard  her  mu- 
sical uproar,  and  had  wished  somewhat  impatiently 
that  once  in  a  while  he  might  appear  in  an  oi'di- 
nary  fashion,  if  it  were,  as  it  seemed  to  be,  an  unal- 
terable decree  of  fate  that  she  and  "  that  man " 
must  meet.  Having  only  taken  sufficient  time  to 
assume,  as  photographers  say,  the  expression  she 
wished  to  wear,  she  appeared  before  Philip,  feeling 
as  if  she  were  acting  a  prominent  part  in  a  genteel 
comedy. 

The  expression  was  well  chosen.  It  conveyed 
no  idea  of  her  wonder  as  to  his  object  in  coming, 
nor  yet  of  her  strong  desire  to  laugh  out  frankly 
because  she  had  been  discovered  making  the  morn- 
ing hideous. 

Xot  the  faintest  hint  that  he  had  heard  any- 
thing which  he  was  not  expected  to  hear  appeared 
on  his  countenance,  as  he  responded  to  her  "Good 
morning." 

"  I  am  sorry  to  disturb  you  so  early,  Miss  Doane, 
but  Jimmie  sent  me.  I  come  at  his  urgent  re- 
quest. As  the'  little  fellow  's  ill,  I  could  not  re- 
fuse." 

"  Gem  ill !  "  she  exclaimed.    "  Is  it  possible  !    Is 


ONE  SUMMER.  121 

he  very  ill]"  she  asked,  anxiously  forgetting  that 
she  was  talking  to  the  anaconda,  and  must  remem- 
ber her  dignity.  Frankly  the  great  brown  eyes, 
full  of  sympathy  for  her  little  friend,  looked  down 
at  him  as  he  stood  on  a  lower  step. 

"  They  call  it  a  low  fever.  He  is  not  seriously 
ill  at  present,  but  I  presume  he  may  become  so. 
He  seems  weak  and  listless,  and  once  in  a  while 
his  mind  wanders  a  little.  The  people  at  the  cot- 
tage are  n't  used  to  sickness,  and  don't  make  the 
boy  any  too  happy,  and  this  morning  he  begged  so 
piteously  to  see  you,  that  I  could  do  no  less  than 
tell  you." 

"  O,  certainly  !  "  Leigh  said.  "  Poor  little  Gem  ! 
I  will  go  at  once." 

"  I  have  a  wagon  out  here,"  began  Philip. 

"  And  you  are  going  to  drive  me  down  ]  That 
will  be  ever  so  much  better  than  walking,"  Leigh 
said  hurriedly.  "  I  will  be  ready  in  a  very  few 
moments."  And  she  ran  rapidly  up  to  her  room. 

Not  a  vestige  of  her  former  wrath  appeared,  yet 
Philip  could  not  flatter,  himself  that  he  personally 
had  in  the  remotest  degree  caused  this  change  of 
manner,  which  was  nevertheless  welcome.  No  man 
of  tolerably  good  intentions  enjoys  being  treated 
as  an  obnoxious,  hardened  sinner  by  a  young  and 
pretty  woman.  And  Philip  was  pleased  that  the 
happy,  singing  girl  had  not  been  transformed,  by 
the  sight  of  him,  into  that  incomprehensible  being 
whose  frigid  majesty  of  deportment  he  vividly  re- 
recalled. 

Leigh  soon  appeared  with  her  hat  on,  and  a  small 
travelling-bag  in  her  hand.  She  had  changed  her 


122  ONE  SUMMER. 

morning  robe  for  the  memorable  brown  dress  she 
had  worn  at  the  fort.  He  fancied  the  old  manner 
must  of  necessity  accompany  it,  the  two  were  so 
closely  allied  in  his  mental  photograph  of  her,  and 
was  relieved  that  he  saw  no  indications  of  an  imme- 
diate relapse. 

"  I  am  sorry  to  put  you  into  this  jolting  vehi- 
cle," he  said,  as  they  passed  down  the  walk.  "  It 
is  the  best  the  Holbrook  stables  afford." 

"  How  long  has  he  been  ill  ] "  And  Leigh  stepped 
into  the  old  wagon  with  an  abstracted  air.  "  I  have 
not  seen  him  in  three  days.  Has  he  been  ill  so 
long]" 

Philip,  amused,  decided  that  the  sooner  he  real- 
ized that  he  was  a  nonentity  the  better.  Except 
that  he  could  answer  questions  about  Gem,  he  ap- 
parently had  no  more  existence  in  Miss  Doane's 
mind  than  if  he  were  an  automaton  driver.  It 
occurred  to  him  that  her  former  treatment  of  him 
was,  upon  the  whole,  more  flattering ;  yet,  not  being 
inordinately  vain,  he  enjoyed  playing  "  dummy." 
The  girl's  simplicity  of  manner  and  directness  of 
purpose  pleased  him,  and  altogether  he  found  her 
a  curious  study. 

"  I  believe  it  was  the  day  after  he  was  at  Birch 
Point  with  you,  Miss  Doane,  that  he  complained 
of  his  head.  He  has  been  indulging  in  what  the 
doctor  called  an  intemperate  use  of  water.  The 
boy  swims  like  a  fish,  and  has  been  in  the  river 
oftener  than  usual  of  late,  and  remained  in  too 
long.  It  's  too  far  north  for  much  of  that  sort  of 
thing." 

Leigh  said  nothing.     Philip  glanced  at  her  as 


ONE  SUMMER.  123 

they  bounced  and  jolted  along,  All  in  quiet  brown, 
with  a  thoughtful  look  on  her  face,  the  Puritan 
maiden  Priscilla  could  not  have  seemed  more  sweet 
and  staid.  The  hot  sun  was  pouring  down  upon 
her  ungloved  hands.  They  were  white  and  small 
and  ringless,  he  saw. 

Man-like,  he  thoughtlessly  said  exactly  the  wrong 
th  ing. 

"  This  is  a  broiling  sun.  It  is  a  pity  you  did 
not  bring  your  umbrella  "  ;  and  instantly  could  have 
bitten  his  tongue  out  for  his  maladroit  speech. 

Leigh  colored  to  her  temples.  Her  umbrella  ! 
Once  upon  a  time,  ages  upon  ages  ago,  she  and  this 
man  had  climbed  that  very  hill  together.  If  this 
fact  had  occurred  to  her  during  the  drive,  it  had 
been  in  a  vague,  shadowy  way.  All  her  vexation 
and  dislike,  her  extravagant  denunciations  of  him, 
had  seemed  so  far  off  and  unimportant.  Sympathy 
for  Gem  had  outweighed  everything  else.  But 
that  fatal  umbrella  !  Again  had  it  thrust  itself 
forward  and  done  an  evil  deed. 

She  did  not  know  whether  his  remark  was  in- 
tentional or  not,  but  she  felt  disturbed,  and  fully 
conscious  of  the  unpleasant  past. 

She  made  an  effort  to  speak  amiably.  She  was 
not  ungenerous  enough  to  wish  to  be  less  than 
gracious  to  the  enemy  who  plainly  admitted  that 
he  was  acting  as  her  escort  solely  at  the  request 
of  a  sick  child,  but  the  voice  that  replied,  "  The 
sun  does  not  trouble  me  in  the  least,  and  we  shall 
soon  be  there,"  was  not  the  caressing  voice  of 
the  girl  who  walked  off  swinging  the  basket  and 
chatting  with  Gem  in  the  sunset  light  at  Birch 


124  ONE  SUMMER. 

Point,  nor  yet  the  careless,  merry  voice  of  the  sing- 
er, nor  that  of  the  calm  and  thoughtful  Puritan 
maiden.  It  was,  it  must  be  confessed,  painfully 
conventional,  and  remotely  suggestive  of  the  at- 
mosphere of  the  Arctic  regions. 

Both  felt  ill  at  ease,  and  silently  congratulated 
themselves  that  the  beauty  of  the  raw-boned  nag, 
which  cheerfully  and  clumsily  galloped  up  and 
down  the  hills,  was  surpassed  by  his  speed. 

Philip  ushered  Leigh  into  the  ponderous  pres- 
ence of  Mrs.  Holbrook,  who,  not  being  in  the  habit 
of  devoting  much  time  to  the  amenities  of  life, 
did  not  thank  the  young  lady  for  coming.  Giving 
her  a  hard  stare,  she  remarked,  — 

"  Jim  allers  was  onthrifty.  Never  had  no  sense. 
An'  now  ef  he  ain't  gone  an'  chosen  the  most  on- 
convenient  season  to  up  an'  be  sick  in,  right  in  the 
midst  of  the  hayin',  an'  me  to  my  ears  in  raspberry 
jam." 

Philip  perceived  that  Leigh  must  have  had 
some  previous  knowledge  of  the  idiosyncrasies  of 
Jimmie's  mamma.  The  young  lady  did  not  mani- 
fest the  faintest  surprise  at  the  tender  motherliness 
of  Mrs.  Holbrook's  sentiments,  but  quietly  said 
that  she  had  no  doubt  Mrs.  Holbrook  was  ex- 
tremely busy,  and  she  should  be  glad  to  relieve 
her  of  the  care  of  Jimmie  for  a  while,  and  might 
she  go  to  him. 

Her  manner  was,  as  it  needed  to  be,  the  per- 
fection of  tact,  for  she  had  come  to  beard  the  Hol- 
brook in  her  den. 

Preceded  by  the  sorrowing  mother,  followed  by 
Philip,  with  the  shrinking  Jane  Maria  bringing  up 


ONE  SUMMER.  125 

the  rear  of  the  procession,  Leigh  entered  the  large 
cheerless  room  on  the  first  floor,  where  Gem  lay. 
He  usually  occupied  a  loft  in  the  roof,  but  the  air 
up  there  was  so  stifling,  Philip  had  offered  an  in- 
tercessory prayer  to  the  grim  deity  who  ruled  the 
household,  and  had  succeeded  in  inducing  her  to 
allow  him  to  bring  the  child  down  where  he  at 
least  would  not  die  of  suffocation. 

She  had  no  intention  of  being  inhuman,  but  her 
manner  from  the  beginning  of  Gem's  illness  had 
given  Philip  a  savage  desire  to  shake  her,  although 
he  told  himself  he  might  as  well  attempt  to  shake 
Mount  Washington.  Had  her  youth  been  such 
a  "demd  horrid  grind,"  he  wondered,  that  it  had 
crushed  every  possibility  of  kindly  sympathy  out  of 
her  nature1?  She  made  no  special  effort  to  worry  the 
boy.  She  had  a  natural  aptitude  for  making  people 
miserable,  and  her  invincible  obtuseness  in  this 
respect  was  her  stronghold.  '  When  what  Philip 
termed  her  "  nagging "  was  more  than  usually  in- 
tense, in  pity  he  would  devise  some  means  of  send- 
ing her  from  the  room,  and  had  befriended  the  boy 
in  many  ways.  Mrs.  Holbrook  saw  no  necessity  of 
consulting  a  physician,"  until  Philip  urged  it  upon 
her.  When  the  doctor  had  made  his  visit,  pro- 
nounced Jimmie  veritably  ill,  with  danger  of  con- 
gestion of  the  brain,  prescribed  his  remedies,  and 
departed,  then  arose  that  formidable  woman,  not 
wishing  to  be  outdone  in  her  own  house,  and 
threatened  the  invalid  with  a  heavy  dose  of  castor- 
oil,  which  was  to  be  followed  at  once,  she  volubly 
declared,  by.  a  large  bowl  of  saffron  tea.  Moved 
to  desperation  by  Jimmie's  horror-struck,  disgusted 


126  ONE  SUMMER. 

face,  as  she  came  towards  the  bed  with  the  cas- 
tor-oil bottle  in  one  hand  and  brandishing  a 
huge  pewter  spoon  in  the  other,  a  forcible  coun- 
terpart of  the  immortal  Mrs.  Squeers,  the  young 
man  sprang  to  his  feet  and  exclaimed,  "  My  clear 
Mrs.  Holbrook,  is  it  —  can  it  be  —  your  jam 
burning]  Let  me  give  that  to  Jimuiie."  And, 
looking  profoundly  anxious  to  assist  her,  he  took 
from  her  hand  the  implements  of  torture.  Tell- 
ing him  the  tea  was  all  ready  on  the  mantel-piece, 
she  withdrew,  uttering  violent  imprecations  upon 
"  Jane  M'ria's  shiftlessness."  Whereupon  the  arch 
hypocrite  surprised  the  hollyhocks . growing  just 
outside  the  window  with  a  liberal  deluge  of  castor- 
oil  and  saffron  tea.  When  she  returned,  he  gave 
her  the  bottle,  in  which  the  oil  was  perceptibly 
lowered,  and  unblushingly  stated  that  "the  saffron 
tea  went  down  very  well,  and  he  thought  Jim  en- 
joyed it,"  suspecting  the  latter  remark  would 
prevent  her  from  bringing  in  a  fresh  supply.  He 
piously  hoped  the  recording  angel  would  treat  this 
righteous  fraud  as  leniently  as  he  did  Uncle  Toby's 
oath,  and  that  the  deceitful  deed  performed  delib- 
erately before  Jim's  grateful  eyes  might  not  have 
a  fatal  effect  upon  that  youth's  subsequent  ca- 
reer. 

It  bad  seemed  to  Philip  that  the  boy  was  very 
ill.  At  times  he  would  lie  almost  in  a  stupor, 
wanting  nothing,  saying  nothing  ;  then  would  sleep 
a  few  moments,  and  upon  waking  would  talk  in- 
coherentlv.  Whenever  he  seemed  sufficiently 
roused  to  speak  rationally,  he  would  implore 
Philip  to  ask  Miss  Leigh  to  come. 


ONE  SUMMER.  127 

"  She  likes  me  first-rate,"  he  confidently  asserted. 
"  She  will  come.  I  know  she  will." 

This  morning  especially  he  had  begged  so  hard 
for  her,  that  Philip  put  his  pride  in  his  pocket, 
harnessed  a  horse  himself,  and  did  as  the  child 
desired.  Mr.  Holbrook,  a  spiritless,  dejected  man, 
was  out  in  a  field  not  far  from  the  house.  Philip 
knew  that  lie  would  have  gone,  but  thought  it 
useless  to  disturb  him.  The  young  man  always 
treated  the  farmer  with  the  most  respectful  cour- 
tesy. A  man  who  had  endured  twenty  years' 
companionship  with  such  a  spouse,  and  had  lived, 
was  a  martyr. pure  and  simple.  No  wonder  his 
eyes  looked  dazed  and  weary,  and  that  he  rarely 
spoke. 

To  Edgecomb  proper  then  Philip  had  gone  to 
please  the  boy ;  and  before  he  had  seen  Leigh  he 
had  an  interview  with  the  doctor,  wishing  to  ascer- 
tain that  the  fever  was  not  of  a  contagious  char- 
acter. This  he  felt  bound  to  do,  on  Tom's  account, 
the  young  lady  being  still,  as  he  told  himself  with 
a  curious  smile,  under  his  guardian  care.  "  Docile 
little  creature  !  How  pleased  she  will  be  to  see 
me  !  "  he  thought,  as  his  awkward  Dobbin  stopped 
at  Miss  Phipps's.  But  Leigh  had  not  bestowed 
upon  him  the  anticipated  stony  stare,  nor  had  she 
treated  him  in  any  respect  as  an  outlaw.  She 
had  come  willingly,  eagerly,  to  the  little  boy  who 
needed  her  so  sorely;  and  now  Philip  stood  watch- 
ing her  as  she.  quietly  took  off  her  hat,  laid  it  on 
a  chair,  and  leaned  tenderly  over  the  flushed  little 
face.  She  passed  one  arm  under  Gem's  shoulders, 
lifting  him  easily,  quickly  shook  his  pillow  and 


128        •  OXE  SUMMER. 

turned  it.  This  commonplace  deed  excited  Phil- 
ip's admiration.  He  had  once  seen  a  similar  thing 
done  upon  the  stage,  and  had  thought  it  a  very 
pretty  piece  of  acting. 

From  Leigh's  pleasant  ways  his  attention  was 
suddenly  diverted  by  Mrs.  Holbrook,  who,  with 
her  usual  appreciation  of  the  eternal  fitness  of 
things,  took  this  favorable  opportunity  to  explore 
the  long-neglected  closet  of  this  unused  room. 
From  its  cavernous  depths  she  exhumed  boxes, 
bags,  and  old  clothes,  accompanied  by  clouds  of 
dust  and  ton-cuts  of  words.  Not  content  with 
opening  and  shutting  drawers  with  a  prodigious 
noise,  she  procured  a  hammer,  with  the  laudable 
intention  of  improving  the  shining  hour  by  driving 
a  few  nails. 

The  effect  upon  Gem,  and  also  upon  Leigh  and 
Philip,  through  sympathy,  was  maddening.  Gem 
tossed  and  turned  uneasily.  Leigh  glanced  over 
her  shoulder  at  Philip,  then  threw  a  comical  look 
of  abhorrence  at  the  closet-door ;  and  each  felt,  as 
the  pounding  waxed  more  and  more  furious,  that 
the  moment  had  arrived  when  patience  ceased  to 
be  a  virtue,  —  yet  what  could  they  do  1  There 
was  no  law  that  forbade  a  woman  to  drive  as  many 
nails  as  she  pleased  in  her  own  house.  Gem 
groaned,  and  looked  half  frantic.  Leigh  rapidly 
crossed  the  room  to  Philip,  who  was  standing  on 
the  threshold  waiting  to  see  if  he  could  be  of  any 
use,  and  in  an  undertone,  yet  in  a  decided,  impet- 
uous fashion,  said,  — 

"  Do  try  to  make  that  impossible  woman  go 
awav  and  stav  awav." 


ONE  SUMMER.  129 

"  I  '11  do  my  best,"  muttered  Philip.  "  I  'd  like 
to  choke  her,"  he  added  savagely.  Leigh  gave  an 
approving  and  sympathetic  nod,  which  plainly  in- 
timated that  she  would  hugely  enjoy  acting  as  his 
assistant,  should  he  carry  his  barbarous  wish  into 
execution.  Thus  was  tacitly  formed  a  society. for 
the  suppression  of  the  Holbrook.  The  grievances 
and  quarrels  of  their  own  mighty  feud  they  ig- 
nored, uniting  against  the  common  enemy  for  the 
good  of  the  child.  This  anti-Holbrook  League 
was  an  unpremeditated  thing,  —  the  result  of  a 
word  and  a  glance,  —  yet  it  was  made  in  good 
faith,  and  would  last  just  so  long  as  Gem's  pitiful 
case  necessitated  the  strange  alliance.  Silently, 
gracefully,  they  buried  the  hatchet.  There  would 
be  time  enough  in  future,  should  occasion  de- 
mand, to  assume  fresh  war-paint  and  renew  hos- 
tilities. 

Leigh  returned  to  Gem.  The  pounding  con- 
tinued. 

Philip  reasoned  that  no  ruse  de  guerre  would 
be  of  use  in  this  emergency,  and  then,  indeed,  it 
would  have  been  difficult  for  him  to  invent  one. 
He  had  already  availed  himself  of  and  exhausted 
the  "jam."  What,  then,  remained,  he  anxiously 
asked  himself.  Plainly,  nothing  but  brute  force 
or  moral  suasion.  Everybody  always  yielded  to 
the  Holbrook.  Might  not  deliberate  disapproval 
and  opposition  prove  a  successful  experiment  as- 
an  entire  novelty  1  She  might,  it  is  true,  grow 
exceedingly  irate,  and  request  him  to  change  his 
boarding-place,  which  result  he  should  deeply  de- 
plore, on  Jimmie's  account.  Still,  he  was  aware 
6*  i 


130  OXE  SUMMER. 

that  his  board  was  an  agreeable  increase  of 
revenue  of  which  it  was  not  probable  that  she 
would  wish  to  deprive  herself. 

"  This  will  not  do,  Mrs.  Holbrook,"  he  said. 
"  You  must  let  these  things  alone  to-day,  and  ar- 
range them  when  Jim  is  well.  You'll  kill  the 
boy  with  so  much  noise.  Miss  Doane  is  kind 
enough  to  sit  with  him  for  a  while,  and  when  she 
is  weary  I  will  be  happy  to  take  her  place.  We 
are  willing  to  relieve  you  as  much  as  possible  of 
the  care  of  him,  but  1  must  insist  upon  quiet  in 
the  room,  or  no  one  can  answer  for  the  conse- 
quences. There  are  too  many  here.  Perhaps 
you  and  I  had  better  go  out." 

All  of  which  Philip  uttered  in  an  emphatic  tone 
of  masculine  authority,  with  the  air  of  one  who 
has  never  had  his  will  crossed  nor  dreams  that 
such  a  possibility  exists.  The  tyrant  and  terma- 
gant mechanically  pushed  back  into  the  closet  the 
debris  she  had  scattered  over  the  floor.  She  then 
ejaculated  a  stupefied,  "Well,  I  never  !  "  and  turned 
and  glared  suspiciously  at  Leigh.  That  discreet 
young  person,  however,  wore  the  most  innocent  and 
unconscious  air  in  the  world,  as  she  stood  with 
averted  face  and  apparently  never  a  thoiight  beyond 
(Jem.  Philip,  talking  incessantly,  in  order  to  steal 
Mrs.  Holbrook's  thunder  and  not  lose  a  point  he 
had  gained,  conveyed  the  nonplussed  woman  into 
•the  kitchen. 

As  he  closed  the  door  of  Gem's  room,  Leigh 
smiled  and  nodded  in  friendly  farewell,  while  the 
brown  eyes  looked  both  amused  and  grateful. 

The  perfect  quiet  in  the  room  after  the  exhaust- 


ONE  SUMMER.  131 

ing  noise  and  confusion  seemed  grateful  to  Gem, 
who  lay  motionless  for  a  little  time. 

"  Who  brungyer  letters  1  I  wanted  ter.  Could 
n't,  though,"  he  murmured  sorrowfully,  as  if  he  had 
betrayed  a  trust. 

"  My  child,  don't  think  of  them  for  a  moment. 
I  'm  going  to  bathe  your  head.  Shut  you  eyes,  and 
you  may  drop  off'  into  a  pleasant  little  nap." 

"  When  I  wake  up  will  you  be  right  there 
a-lookin'  at  me  ? " 

"  Yes,  dear." 

Gem  smiled,  and  closed  his  eyes. 

He  dozed  a  few  moments,  then  started  up  wildly 
and  clung  to  Leigh. 

"%What  is  it,  little  one "? " 

"  I  thought  you  was  gone.  Marm  was  a-pullin' 
yer  off." 

"  Youdreamed  it,  dear,"  she  said  softly.  "I came 
to  take  care  of  you,  and  I  promise  you  J  will  stay. 
Do  not  be  afraid.  No  one  will  take  me  away  from 
you." 

"  Yer  're  awful  good,"  whispered  the  boy. 
"  What  makes  yer  1 " 

"  What  makes  me  good  to  you  ]  Because  you 
are  my  precious  little  Gem,  and  my  knight,  you 
know." 

Full  of  regret  at  seeing  her  merry  little  comrade 
lying  ill  before  her,  pitying  the  sick  child  who 
seemed  worse  than  motherless,  loving  him  more 
than  ever  before  because  he  appealed  so  strongly 
to  her  warm  womanly  sympathies,  she  stooped 
and  touched  his  forehead  with  her  lips,  saying 
softly, — 


132  ONE  SUMMER. 

"  Be  quiet,  dear.  You  may  sleep  again.  I  will 
not  leave  you." 

Deep  into  Gem's  heart  sank  the  tender  caress. 
Again  he  closed  his  eyes,  and  soon  fell  into  a  rest- 
less, nervous  sleep. 

And  Leigh  sat  watching  him,  and  soothing  him 
when  he  would  wake,  by  her  calm  and  sweet  pres- 
ence and  low,  loving  voice. 

Beyond  the  closed  door,  Philip,  in  the  hot 
kitchen,  was  throwing  sops  to  Cerberus. 


ONE  SUMMER.  133 


CHAPTER    XII. 


'  It  is  best  to  begin  with  a  little  aversion." 

MRS.  MALAPEOP. 


ARDON  me,  Miss  Doane,  but  why  should 
you  ] " 

"Pardon   me,    Mr.    Ogden,    but   why 
should  I  not  ?  " 

Standing  out  in  the  cottage-porch,  they  looked 
steadily  at  each  other  in  the  soft  summer  twilight. 
Already  there  were  symptons  of  dissension  within 
the  newly  formed  League.  Upon  Leigh's  face  was 
determination  ;  upon  Philip's,  disapproval. 

"I  may  take  a  liberty  in  expressing  my  opinion," 
said  Philip,  somewhat  stiffly,  "  but  if  you  will  per- 
mit me  to  speak  plainly,  I  see  no  reason  why  you 
should  give  yourself  so  much  unnecessary  trouble." 

"  Gem  wants  me." 

"  I  presume  he  does.  It  is  not  surprising  that 
he  should.  Florence  Nightingales  do  not  abound 
in  this  family.  Still,  Jim  and  I  don't  quarrel  much, 
and  if  you  will  resign  him  to  me  for  to-night,  I  will 
agree  to  call  at  Miss  Phipps's  for  you  to-morrow 
morning  at  any  unearthly  hour  you  will  indicate." 

"  You  are  very  kind,  but  Gem  wants  me,"  reiter- 
ated Leigh,  as  if  that  simple  fact  settled  the 
matter. 

Philip,  with  concealed  impatience,  wondered  at 
the  unreasoning  feminine  persistence  he  was  en- 


134  ONE  SUMMER. 

countering.  That  he  was  equally  persistent  did 
not,  of  course,  occur  to  him. 

"  Ought  you  to  stay,  Miss  Doane  ]  It  is  very 
benevolent  iu  you,  no  doubt,  but  —  pardon 
me  —  is  it  not  also  rather  Quixotic  ]  Jim  is  in 
no  danger;  my  bungling  ministrations  to-night, 
though  a  painful  contrast  to  yours,  won't  kill  him, 
and  I  can  shield  him  from  the  attacks  of  the 
harpy.  You  had  better  allow  me  to  take  you  back. 
It  seems  unwise  for  you  to  run  any  risk  entirely 
alone,  and  away  from  your  friends.  The  child  is 
in  reality  nothing  to  you." 

"  The  child  is  in  reality  my  friend,"  said  Leigh, 
quickly  and  decidedly  ;  "  and  when  I  left  niy  family 
behind  me,  I  did  not  also  leave  my  judgment,  nor 
my  ordinary  human  instincts." 

"  Nor  your  own  sweet  will,"  thought  Philip. 

"  I  do  not  see  that  the  matter  admits  of  any 
further  discussion,  Mr.  Ogden.  Gem  is  my  friend, 
and  needs  me." 

"A  remarkably  fine  sentiment,"  was  Philip's 
mental  comment.  Aloud,  he  said  dryly,  — 

"  Your  friendship,  Miss  Doaue,  must  be  a  more 
substantial  and  valuable  thing  than  that  of  most 
young  women  —  according  to  books." 

"  That  may  be,"  she  coolly  retorted  ;  "yet  allow 
me  to  say,  Mr.  Ogden,  that  if  you  have  derived 
your  ideas  on  the  subject  from  books  only,  it  is 
possible  that  you  have  not  the  faintest  conception 
what  a  good,  honest,  and  substantial  thing  a  young 
woman's  friendship  really  is."  Here  the  manner  of 
the  spirited  champion  of  her  sex  suddenly  changed, 
and  with  a  bright  smile  and  a  frankly  extended 


ONE  SUMMER.  135 

hand  she  said,  "But  I  cannot  afford  to  quarrel 
with  you,  Mr.  Ogden.  You  deserve  a  martyr's 
crown  for  your  efforts  to-day.  All  day  long  with 
that  woman !  "  she  exclaimed  with  an  expressive 
shudder.  "  I  really  did  not  know  a  man  "  —  with 
a  slight  saucy  emphasis  —  "  could  be  so  unselfish. 
Please  let  me  stay."  And  she  looked  up  sweetly 
at  the  amazed  young  man,  like  an  imploring  child. 

"  Please  let  her  stay  !  "  Had  the  skies  fallen  ] 
And  was  there  anything  in  the  world  so  swift  and 
subtle  as  a  woman's  wit  1  He  was  grave  and  dis- 
pleased, and  like  lightning  she  had  changed  her  tac- 
tics for  Gem's  sake.  They  two  for  Gem,  and  Philip 
against  the  household,  was  their  united  battle-cry, 
while  her  little  private  watchword  was,  "  For  Gem's 
sake."  Plainly  she  had  said  that  she  could  not  afford 
to  quarrel  with  him.  His  friendliness  was  necessary 
to  the  success  of  her  present  plans ;  and  now  she 
stood,  meek  and  dutiful,  with  appealing  eyes,  know- 
ing instinctively  it  was  the  surest  method  of  ban- 
ishing the  slight  frown  which  she  herself  had  pro- 
duced upon  Philip's  face.  Yet  her  art  was  so  pal- 
pable, so  childlike,  so  intentionally  and  honestly 
revealed,  that  Philip,  perfectly  appreciating  the 
workings  of  her  mind,  smiled  down  upon  her 
kindly  ;  then,  with  affected  solemnity,  said,  — 

"  Miss  Doane,  if  you  have  gained  your  ideas  of 
man's  selfishness  from  books  simply,  it  is  possible 
that  you  have  not  the  faintest  conception  what  a 
noble,  grand,  heroic,  and  utterly  unselfish  creature 
he  really  is." 

"  You  are  quite  right.  I  do  not  think  I  have," 
said  Leigh,  laughing ;  "  but  if  you  will  be  good 


136  ONE  SUMMER. 

enough  to  bring  me  a  sheet  of  paper  and  a  pencil, 
and  kindly  take  a  note  to  Miss  Phipps,  you  may, 
perhaps,  do  much  towards  convincing  me." 

"  I  am  entirely  at  your  service.  1  Avill  take  you 
or  your  note  to  Miss  Phipps,  as  you  finally  decide; 
but,  for  the  last  time,  allow  me  to  beg  you  to  leave 
Jim  to  me  to-night."  He  spoke  earnestly  and 
kindly. 

She  replied,  "  Please  say  no  more  about  it,  Mr. 
Ogden.  You  will  oblige  me  very  much  by  taking 
the  note." 

He  silently  bowed,  and  went  to  his  room  for  writ- 
ing materials.  "  Is  there  anything  else  that  I  can 
do  1 "  he  said,  as  he  took  the  note  from  Leigh's 
hand,  and  was  about  to  turn  towards  the  gate, 
where  he  had  left  the  wagon. 

"Nothing,  thank  you,  except  not  to  let  Mrs.  Hoi- 
brook  drive  me  away,"  she  whispered  roguishly. 
And  Philip,  as  self-installed  keeper  and  tamer  of 
that  ferocious  person,  pledged  his  word  to  Leigh 
that  she  should  not  be  molested. 

"  Shall  I  bring  your  letters  ]  I  shall  go  to  the 
post-office." 

"  Thank  you ;  you  may  bring  them  to-night,  and, 
if  not  too  much  trouble,  whenever  I  am  here.  The 
post-office  is  the  least  agreeable  place  in  Edge- 
comb." 

"  Yes,  I  know.  It  is  where  the  loafers  most  do 
congregate,  though  they  are,  as  a  rule,  such  Rip 
Van  Winkles  they  are  quite  harmless.  It  will  be 
no  trouble  to  me,  Miss  Doane.  I  consider  it  an 
honor  to  act  as  your  postman." 

With   an    amicable    good-evening  they  parted. 


ONE  SUMMER.  137 

Again  Philip  turned  back,  and  approaching  the 
cottage-door,  said,  — 

"  I  may  not  see  you  this  evening  when  I  get 
back.  If  you  need  any  help  to-night,  you  will  not 
hesitate  to  call  me.  You  might  get  frightened  or 
distressed,  you  know,  and  we  can't  afford  to  quar- 
rel, as  you  say,  or  be  too  conventional  just  at  pres- 
ent. You  may  command  me  to  an  unlimited 
extent  —  for  the  boy's  sake,"  he  added,  with  a 
twinkle  in  his  eye. 

"  I  probably  shall  not  need  to  disturb  you,  as  I 
am  not  at  all  timid  ;  but  I  promise  to  hesitate  at 
nothing  —  for  Gem's  sake,"  she  replied,  smiling 
mischievously. 

Soon  the  wagon  jolted  out  of  sight.  Leigh  stood 
looking  out  upon  the  dusky  landscape.  The  faint 
outline  of  distant  hills,  the  intense  gloom  of  nearer 
forests,  her  conversation  with  Philip,  and  his  calm, 
direct  gaze,  the  strong  salt  breeze  that  was  blow- 
ing her  hair  back  from  her  temples  as  she  leaned 
against  the  lattice  of  the  porch  a  few  moments  be- 
fore returning  to  her  little  charge,  all  seemed  famil- 
iar as  a  twice-told  tale.  "  Why,  this  is  the  way 
girls  in  books  feel,"  she  thought.  "  They  always 
have  lived  through  certain  moments  ages  before, 
and  everything  is  like  a  scene  long  past.  Such 
nonsensical,  romantic  sensations  will  never  do  for 
me."  And  she  gave  a  funny  little  shrug  and  tried 
to  shake  off  the  impression.  What  was  Bessie 
doing?  Would  Mr.  Ogden  bring  her  a  letter, 
she  wondered.  What  unaccountable  things  one's 
prejudices  were  !  She  half  admitted  that  she  did 
not  really  dislike  him  so  much  as  she  ought,  in 


138  OXE  SUMMER. 

reason.  She  did  not  like  him.  She  never  should. 
If  there  was  anything  she  could  trust  in  the  world, 
it  was  her  intuition,  and  that  unerring  guide  had 
pronounced  against  him.  The  fiat  had  gone  forth. 
They  were  not  sympathetic.  Still,  she  must  injus- 
tice grant  that  he  had  been  really  kind  that  day. 
Keeping  faithful  guard  over  the  Holbrook  all  day 
long  in  that  hot  kitchen  was  a  sacrifice,  when  a 
man  might  be  wandering  off  with  his  fishing-rod, 
or  skimming  down  the  river  in  his  wherry.  He 
had  done  nothing  that  would  reflect  any  credit 
upon  him  in  the  eyes  of  people  in  general,  but  she 
liked  it  in  him,  it  was  so  purely  kind.  And  then, 
with  a  brief  spasm  of  contrition,  she  asked  herself 
if  she  ought  to  express  her  regret  for  the  combined 
misdemeanors  of  her  unruly  umbrella  and  more 
unruly  self.  She  involuntarily  recoiled  at  the  idea. 
Ah,  no  !  she  had  felt  so  strongly,  she  could  not  yet 
speak  of  those  things  that  had  passed  away.  The 
new  and  the  old  Mr.  Ogden  were  two  individuals, 
one  little  day  had  proved  such  a  peacemaker.  But 
how  could  she  tell  what  freak  would  seize  her  if  she 
should  try  to  make  any  allusion  to  the  disastrous 
opening  of  their  acquaintance,  what  perverse  fancy 
would  transform  the  young  man  whose  manner  was 
so  friendly  to  her,  so  thoughtful  for  Gem,  into  the 
self-satisfied  anaconda,  pervading  space  in  every 
direction,  and  constantly  rearing  his  hateful  head 
before  her  unwilling  eyes  1  No,  she  could  not  trust 
herself.  She  was  too  capricious.  Things  might 
remain  as  they  were,  and  when  Tom  and  Bessie 
came  she  might  dare,  reinforced  so  strongly,  to  ask 
Mr.  Ogden's  pardon  once  for  all  for  whatever  hei- 


ONE  SUMMER.  139 

nous  offences  she  had  committed ;  and  then  her  con- 
science —  whose  demands  were  not  very  clamorous 
on  that  point — would  be  appeased,  and  Mr.  Ogden 
would  depart,  and  her  summer's  experience  would 
be  only  an  episode  for  Bessie  and  herself  to  talk 
over,  and  that  would  be  the  end  of  it.  But  surely 
now  she  need  not  precipitate  matters,  stir  the 
peaceful  waters  until  once  more  they  would  be- 
come turbid.  The  truth  was,  they  were  not  friends. 
But  she  assured  herself,  with  lofty  pride,  her  mind 
was  not  so  narrow  as  to  refuse  to  recognize  obvi- 
ously admirable  traits,  even  in  an  enemy.  He  had 
been  kind,  useful,  unselfish,  and  that  was  more 
than  men  usually  took  the  trouble  to  be,  this  ex- 
perienced observer  of  the  race  concluded.  And 
his  face  was  not  disagreeable  when  he  looked  that 
way,  she  mused.  "  That  way,"  the  expression  of 
which  it  had  pleased  Leigh  to  approve,  was  the  one 
which  had  accompanied  Philip's  final  offer  of  assist- 
ance, the  look  of  kindly  amusement  with  which 
he  told  her  to  command  him  for  the  boy's  sake. 
Immediately,  as  if  some  one  had  accused  her  of  de- 
serting her  principles,  she  told  herself  with  consid- 
erable asperity  that  she  presumed  even  if  she  did 
not  fancy  a  man's  prominent  mental  characteristics, 
that  fact  ought  not  to  prevent  her  from  acknowl- 
edging that  his  eyes  had  a  pleasant  twinkle,  that 
the  lines  of  his  face  were  strong  and  shrewd,  that 
his  head  was  well  set  on  a  pair  of  broad  shoulders, 
and  that  he  had  extremely  good  manners.  No  ! 
she  hoped,  into  whatever  fault  she  might  fall 
through  the  infirmities  of  her  nature,  that  she 
should  never  grow  so  illiberal  as  to  distort  facts, 


140  ONE  SUMMER. 

simply  from  her  own  private  prejudice.  Then  the 
enviable  possessor  of  this  superhumauly  clear  and 
unbiassed  judgment  turned  from  the  starlight  and 
the  cool  breeze  and  returned  to  her  post,  determin- 
ing that  while  she  remained  in  the  Holbrook  cot- 
tage she  would  vigorously  wave  her  flag  of  truce 
in  Mr.  Ogden's  face,  "for  Gem's  sake,"  as  she  re- 
peatedly assured  herself. 

Through  the  woods  rode  Philip  to  do  Leigh's 
bidding,  pondering  pleasantly,  for  the  first  time, 
upon  the  many  phases  her  nature  had  exhibited. 
Which  aspect  showed  the  girl's  true  self?  Which 
manner  was  the  abnormal  one  ?  He  laughingly 
admitted  that  he  knew  not  ;  but  that  she  was 
bright  and  bewitching,  and  extremely  fond  of 
her  own  way,  was  the  latest  impression  he  had 
formed.  What  new  role  it  might  please  her  to 
assume  in  the  morning  was  beyond  surmise. 
"  Colors  seen  by  candlelight  do  not  look  the  same 
by  day."  But  this  he  resolved,  that  while  he 
would  be  her  most  faithful  servant  and  ally  in 
everv  matter  wherein  Jim  was  directly  or  remotely 
concerned,  he  would  be  careful  not  to  presume 
upon  the  familiar  and  friendly  relations  so  estab- 
lished. Until  Miss  Doane  made  it  evident  that 
he  was  personally,  and  not  "  for  Gem's  sake,"  en- 
titled to  ordinarily  amicable  treatment,  he  would 
studiously  avoid  infringing  upon  her  divine  right 
to  be  let  alone,  which  she  had  clearly  proclaimed 
to  him.  Their  present  "platform"  was  good  for 
this  day  only,  or  at  least  for  Jim's  illness  ;  and 
when  the  hollow  and  unsubstantial  thing  should 
vanish  in  thin  air,  it  was  possible  Miss  Doane's 


ONE  SUMMER.  141 

emiles  would  also  take  to  themselves  wings ;  it 
therefore  was  fitting  that  a  wise  man  should  be 
prudent,  and  consider  his  ways,  and  not  put  his 
trust  in  a  treaty  of  peace  of  a  manifestly  epheme- 
ral nature,  and  made  by  a  beautiful  but  kaleido- 
scopic young  woman.  "  She  can  be  charming  and 
sunny  as  the  day ;  but  if  she  be  not  so  to  me  for 
my  own  merits,  what  care  I  how  transcendentally 
agreeable  she  be  !  "  he  coolly  thought.  And  then 
he  vowed  a  solemn  vow.  Miss  Doane  should  allude 
to  their  woful  encounter,  or  never  should  the  mat- 
ter cross  his  lips  ;  and  she  should  first  express 
one  little  word  of  regret  for  her  reception  of  him 
at  the  fort,  or  he  would  never  ask  her  pardon  for 
his  various  delinquencies.  If  she  would  take  one 
Btep  towards  him  in  honest  apology,  he  would  be 
willing  to  walk  miles  to  meet  her,  he  knew  well ; 
but  she  must  make  the  first  advance.  Once  he 
had  begun  in  good  faith  to  express  his  contrition, 
and  she  had  repulsed  him.  Now  he  would  be  pas- 
sive, and  await  some  active  demonstration  from 
he)-.  So  he  buckled  on  his  armor  of  obstinacy, 
because,  though  he  did  not  admit  it,  he  was  in 
peril  from  the  unconscious  attacks  of  the  plausi- 
ble, sweet-voiced,  friendly  enemy  who  had  stood 
talking  with  him  in  the  porch. 

Later,  when  he  returned,  and  had  put  up  his 
horse,  and  walked  jn  at  the  back  door,  with  the 
freedom  and  independence  of  a  son  of  the  soil,  he 
found  a  maiden  all  forlorn  crouching  disconso- 
lately upon  a  low  stool  by  the  cold  kitchen  stove. 
The  light  was  dim,  but  the  length  and  prominence 
of  the  elbows  revealed  Jane  Maria.  She  was  sob- 


142  ONE  SUMMER. 

bing,  arid  evidently  in  much  distress.  Too  fre- 
quently had  Philip  seen  her  in  grief  to  be  amazed, 
and  he  ventured  a  word  of  comfort  to  the  ungainly 
likeness  of  Cinderella  mourning  amid  the  ashes  of 
the  desolate  hearthstone. 

"  '  Tears,  idle  tears  !  '  Miss  Jennie  ;  and  what 
was  it  to-day  ]  What  have  you  done  that  you 
ought  not  to  have  done,  or  not  done  that  you 
ought  to  have  done,  and  has  the  mother  been  re- 
monstrating]" he  asked  lightly. 

"  No,  sir,  't  ain't  that,  it 's  Jimmie." 

"So1?  And  what  can  the  boy  have  done  to 
tease  you  in  his  present  condition  1 " 

"No,  sir,  't ain't  that.  I  wish  he  hed,"  she 
said  with  a  fresh  burst  of  tears. 

It  had  become  Philip's  destiny  of  late  to  observe 
more  clearly  than  ever  before  the  complex  work- 
ings of  the  feminine  nature.  He  nattered  himself 
that  he  was  beginning  to  be  hardened  to  Miss 
Doaue's  "  bewilderingly  various  combinations."  to 
quote  from  the  eloquent  advertisements  of  the  sen- 
sational plays;  but  that  Jane  Maria's  silly,  simple 
little  mind  should  develop  in  any  unexpected  way 
was  indeed  a  surprise. 

"  Suppose  you  try  to  stop  crying,  and  take  this 
package  to  Miss  Doaue,  tell  her  there  were  no 
letters  for  her,  and  ask  her  how  Jim  seems." 

She  went  obediently,  and  returned  with  Miss 
Doane's  thanks  for  Mr.  Ogden,  and  Jimmie  seemed 
restless  and  nervous  and  full  of  pain,  but  she  hoped 
to  be  able  to  quiet  him. 

"I  hope  she  will,"  said  Philip,  heartily.  "And 
now,  Miss  Jennie,  tell  me  why  you  feel  so  dis- 
tressed about  him." 


ONE  SUMMER.  143 

"Cos  he  spoke  so  pleasant-like  to  the  young 
lady,  and  cos  his  .back  and  his  head  hurts  him, and 
cos  he  ain't  said  nothin'  about  my  elbows  sence  he 
was  sick." 

"Ah,  I  see  !  And  you  think  these  symptoms  so 
unnatural  that  you  feel  alarmed,  —  afraid  he  won't 
recover." 

"  I  was  afraid  he  was  a-repentin',  and  they  'most 
allers  repents  just  before  thev  dies,  and  nobody  ever 
died  here,  and  I  don't  want  Jimmie  ter."  And  the 
poor  girl  sobbed  convulsively. 

Her  grief,  though  ludicrous,  was  heartfelt. 

"  But  he  will  not,"  said  'Philip,  confidently. 
"  Don't  shed  another  tear  for  him.  He  has  not 
repented  enough  to  hurt  himself,  and  will  live  to 
torment  you  many  a  long  year." 

This  charming  prospect  consoled  her  immensely. 
She  could  not  doubt,  for  Philip  had  spoken. 

"  It  seems,  then,  that  you  are  fond  of  the  boy, 
Miss  Jennie  ? " 

She  looked  up  doubtfully.  "  I  don'  know.  I 
ain't  fond  of  him  when  he  calls  me  names,  and 
jumps  at  me  in  the  dark.  He  ain't  a  bit  like  the 
lady  I-mer-gin's  little  brother.  He  was  tall  an' 
pale  an'  had  long  curls,  an'  wore  a  black  velvet 
cloak  lined  with  crimson  satin,' an'  he  used  to  say, 
'  What  ho  !  Without  there  !  Hither,  minion  ! '  " 

"  Jim  could  say  that  without  any  difficulty," 
said  Philip,  soberly.  "  He  is  not  tall,  —  small  for 
his  age,  I  should  say,  but  likely  to  start  up  some 
day  and  grow  like  a  weed ;  and  he  will  be  pale 
enough  to  please  you  when  he  gets  up  from  his 
illness.  As  to  the  gewgaws,  they  might  easily  be 


144  ONE  SUMMER. 

hired  at  any  theatrical  outfitter's,  and  Jim's  curls 
would  grow  longer  if  your  mother  would  n't  cut 
them  off.  There  are  some  radical  differences,  I 
admit,  between  your  favorite  and  Jimmie,  but 
Jim 's  the  better  fellow." 

"  You  don't  say  so  ! "  exclaimed  the  amazed  Jane 
Maria. 

"  I  do,  emphatically.  Don't  you  see,  Miss  Jen- 
nie, that  your  Lord  Fitz  Walter  is  a  milk-sop, 
while  Jim  is  a  little  man  1 " 

It  was  evident  that  Jane  failed  to  appreciate 
the  distinction.  Philip  looked  half  quizzically, 
half  pityingly  at  the  lank,  awkward  girl  who  stood 
in  the  dimly  lighted,  homely  kitchen,  leaning  her 
arms  on  the  high  back  of  an  old-fashioned  chair. 
The  tall  clock  in  the  corner  ticked  monotonously, 
and  she  remained  motionless,  lost  in  hersilly  dreams. 

"  Poor  child  !  Poor  overworked  drudge  !  No 
wonder  she  clings  to  her  Fitz  Walters  and  spangles 
and  aristocratic  pallor,  as  a  contrast  to  her  daily 
life,"  thought  Philip.  "  Yet  this  half-awakened 
affection  for  Jim  might  be  utilized,  perhaps.1' 

"  Yes,"  he  continued,  "  Jim  is  a  pretty  good 
boy,  as  boys  go.  I  like  him.  Miss  Doane  likes 
him.  He  's  likely  to  have  a  hard  time  of  it  too. 
Miss  Jennie,  he  has  been  the  plague  of  your  life,  and 
will  be  again,  no  doubt.  His  angelic  wings  have 
not  yet  sprouted.  But  you  can  be  of  use  to  him 
if  you  want  to  be ;  and  if  you  watch  Miss  Doane, 
who  has  had  more  experience  as  a  nurse  than  you, 
you  will  soon  see  just  what  to  do." 

"  Yes,  sir.  She  's  handy  and  spry,  ain't  she  1 
I  can't  be  like  her." 


ONE  SUMMER.  145 

"  No  two  people  are  alike  ;  but  you  are  Jim's 
sister,  and  it  is  the  thing,  I  suppose,  for  sisters  to 
take  care  of  brothers  when  they  are  ill.  If  you 
do  not  know  how,  you  can  learn  ;  only  do  not  bury 
yourself  in  the  'Haunted  Homes  of  Hillsdale.'  I  '11 
tell  you  what.  If  you  will  let  that  trash  alone,  I 
will  send  you  down  a  box  of  books  when  I  get  back 
to  the  city,  enough  to  last  you  all  winter.  But  do 
not  go  about  dreaming  of  your  magnificent,  high- 
flown  friends,  or  you  will  spill  Jim's  medicine  and 
burn  his  gruel.  There  is  not  room  enough  in  the 
cottage,  just  now,  for  your  family,  Miss  Doane,  and 
me,  and  Lord  What's-his-name,  my  Lady  Terra- 
pin, and  Fitz  Milk-sop.  Let 's  crowd  the  nobility 
out,  Miss  Jennie." 

He  spoke  in  a  good-humored,  jesting  way,  as  he 
had  sometimes  before  done  with  regard  to  these 
same  lofty  personages. 

"  I  know  I  'm  always  a-forgettin'  after  I  Ve  been 
a-readin'.  I  won't  read  another  word  while  Jim  's 
sick,"  she  said  earnestly. 

"  That  is  a  good,  sensible  girl.  Good  night."  And, 
taking  his  candle,  Philip  went  to  his  room  with  a 
consciousness  that  he  was  rapidly  learning  to  adapt 
himself  to  curious  and  unforeseen  circumstances, 
and  not  knowing  which  was  the  oddest  position  for 
a  hitherto  solitary  and  self-absorbed  young  bachelor 
to  fill,  —  that  of  keeper  of  the  terrific  harpy, 
errand-boy  and  slave  of  his  brilliant  young  enemy, 
or  assuager  of  the  tears  of  rustic  maidenhood. 

He  heard  nothing  as  he  passed  Gem's  room;  but 
later,  from  time  to  time,  various  sounds  reached 
him,  —  Leigh's  light,  rapid  step  as  she  ministered 


146  OXE  SUMMER. 

to  the  wants  of  the  invalid,  her  voice  with  its  low, 
caressing  cadence,  an  occasional  weary  word  from 
Gem.  Through  the  long  night-watches  her  patient 
care  was  unremitting.  She  had  opened  the  door, 
that  Gem  might  have  more  air ;  and  far  into  the 
morning,  softly  yet  distinctly  through  the  quiet 
house  came  the  words  of  a  song  she  was  sing- 
ing. 

"Clear  and  cool,  clear  and  cool, 
By  laughiug  shallow  and  dreaming  pool. 
Cool  and  clear,  cool  and  clear, 
By  stilling  shingle  aud  foaming  weir," 

rippled  the  tender  voice,  and  the  restless  child  lay 
hushed  and  calmed. 

"Undefiled  for  the  undefiled  ; 
Play  by  me,  bathe  in  me,  mother  aud  child." 

And  the  pure,  sweet  tones  "echoed  along  the 
vacant  hall,"  and  found  a  resting-place  above  in 
the  heart  of  the  silent  listener. 

Pained  and  sad,  like  the  burden  of  her  song,  was 
the  girl's  voice  as  she  sang  the  second  verse  ;  and 

"  Who  dare  sport  with  the  sin-defiled  ? 
Shrink  from  me,  turn  from  me,  mother  aud  child  ! " 

came  almost  with  a  shudder. 

"  Strong  and  free,  strong  and  free, 
The  floodgates  are  open  away  to  the  sea, 
Free  and  strong,  free  and  strong, 
Cleansing  my  streams  as  I  hurry  along 
To  the  golden  sauds  and  the  leaping  bar 
And  the  taintless  tide  that  awaits  me  afar." 

Clearer  and  fuller  rang  the  voice  in  the  glad 
rush  of  the  song,  and 


ONE  SUMMER.  147 

"  As  I  lose  myself  in  the  infinite  main, 
Like  a  soul  that  has  sinned  and  is  pardoned  again," 

sounded  so  full  of  a  passionate  joy  that  Philip 
asked  himself,  wonderingly,  — 

"  What  does  that  white-souled  child,  voiced  like 
heaven's  lark,  know  of  sin,  that  she  sings  with 
such  a  depth  of  feeling  about  the  joy  of  a  par- 
doned soul  1 " 

"  Undefiled  for  the  imdefiled, 
Play  by  me,  bathe  in  me,  mother  and  child," 

floated  up  in  the  tender,  restful  tone  again,  and 
then  the  voice  died  away.  All  was  quiet.  Gem 
was  asleep.  The  cocks  were  crowing,  and  the 
first  faint  tokens  of  the  dawn  showing  in  the  east, 
before  Philip  closed  his  eyes.  And,  though 
touched  by  the  melody  which  rose  so  sweetly 
through  the  stillness  of  the  night,  yet  he  hard- 
ened his  heart  and  resolved  to  hearken  as  often  as 
possible  to  the  voice  of  the  charmer,  but  not  to 
be  a  whit  deceived,  charmed  she  never  so  wisely. 
Fair  and  gracious  and  womanly  was  the  outward 
effect  of  keeping  her  loving  vigils  by  the  side  of 
the  suffering  child.  But  might  it  not  be  a  dis- 
solving-view 1  Was  it  pure  goodness,  or  only 
another  caprice  1 


148  ONE  SUMMER. 


CHAPTER   XIII. 


"  The  exquisite, 
Brown,  blessed  eyes." 

JEAS  IXGELOW. 


EDGECOMB,  Sunday,  August  12,  18—. 
TOM, — Some  men  achieve  meanness, 
and  some  have  meanness  thrust  upon  them. 
To  the  latter  class  I  belong,  being  forced 
to  tell  tales  of  your  sister,  or,  by  remain- 
ing silent,  to  virtually  approve  of  the  bad  state  of 
things  down  here.  Miss  Doane,  no  doubt,  frankly 
gives  her  view  of  the  matter  ;  but  people  see  things 
differently.  She  is  hovering  over  the  bedside  of  our 
common  friend  Jim.  You  know,  of  course,  who  Jim 
is,  and  Miss  Doane's  regard  for  Jim,  and  Jim's  varied 
fascinations  ;  but,  granting  that  he  is  Phrebus  Apollo 
himself,  it  does  not  follow  that  Miss  Doane  should 
throw  herself  under  his  chariot -wheels  and  be  crushed 
in  pieces.  If  she  would  content  herself  with  flitting  in 
and  out  of  the  room  in  an  atmosphere  of  airy  benefi- 
cence, smiles,  and  flowers,  after  the  approved  fashion 
of  young  women  upon  the  stage,  I  should  not  trouble 
myself  to  report  at  headquarters.  The  facts  are  these  : 
She  stays  day  and  night.  She  has  a  steady,  business- 
like air  which  tills  me  with  amazement.  She  evinces 
a  determination  to  remain  until  the  last  gun  is  fired, 
and,  worst  of  all,  she  works.  My  humble  remonstrance, 
once  offered,  had  no  more  effect  upon  her  than  the  idle 
wind,  and  I  have  not  the  honor  of  being  sufficiently 
in  Miss  Doane's  good  graces  to  take  the  liberty  of  ex- 
pressing my  opinion  a  second  time.  Never,  apparently, 
was  there  a  young  woman  more  benevolent,  more  effi- 


ONE  SUMMER.  149 

cient,  more  exclusively  governed  by  her  own  ideas  and 
wishes,  and  more  directly  on  the  road  to  tiring  herself 
out  and  getting  ill. 

All  of  which  is  respectfully  submitted. 
Yours, 

PHILIP. 

Miles  and  miles  from  Edgecomb,  in  a  pretty 
breakfast-room,  where  everything  was  charming 
except  the  temperature,  this  letter  was  read  by 
the  persons  whom  Miss  Doane's  conduct  most 
nearly  affected. 

Tom  read  it.  Bessie  read  it.  They  looked  at 
each  other  inquiringly. 

"  Well,  Tom  1 " 

"  Madam,  it  is  not  well ;  it  is  ill.  It  is  repre- 
hensible ;  it  is  pernicious.  Next  week,  the  maj- 
esty of  the  law  —  which  is  I  —  and  the  claim  of 
family  affection  —  which  is  you  —  will  fall  like  a 
thunderbolt  upon  that  misguided  girl." 

"  Like  two  thunderbolts,  Tom,  dear.  But  don't 
get  eloquent.  It 's  too  warm,  and  it  makes  your 
forehead  shine.  Please  don't  mistake  me  for  an 
enlightened  jury.  1  'm  sure  I  don't  see  why  you 
should.  I  don't  look  like  one.  Eat  another  peach, 
and  calm  yourself,  my  liege." 

"  Your  which  ?  Did  I  understand  you  to  say 
your  liege  1  Heavens  and  earth  !  What  fiendish 
sarcasm  is  this  1 " 

"  Did  I  not  tell  you,  dear,  that  it  makes  your 
forehead  shine  unbecomingly  to  exert  yourself  so 
much  ] " 

"  Madam,  that  moisture  which  offends  your 
weakly  fastidious  eye  emanates  from  and  betrays 


150  ONE  SUMMER. 

the  workings  of  my  massive  intellect,  which  is 
now  tn'ing  to  solve  this  problem  :  Why  did  I 
marry  a  woman  who  had  such  a  sister  1  " 

"  You  married  me,  my  beloved,  because  you 
could  not  help  yourself,  —  I  was  so  perfectlv  be- 
witching. And  I  married  you  because  I  was  not 
so  well  acquainted  as  I  now  am  with  the  glaring 
defects  in  your  character.  As  for  Leigh,  she  is 
doing  exactly  right,  as  she  always  does,  and  you 
know  it." 

"  I  know,  and  evidently  Ogden  knows,  that  she 
is  a  perverse  and  headstrong  girl,  and  you  are  as 
illogical  as  the  rest  of  your  charming  sex  —  whose 
abject  slave,  I  will  remark  in  parenthesis,  I  am  — 
in  deserting  the  man  vou  promised  to  honor  and 
obey,  and  enrolling  under  Leigh's  banner  when 
you  do  not  know  the  circumstances." 

"  Oh  !  Oh  !  Oh  !  "  exclaimed  Bessie,  despair- 
ingly. "  Did  ever  a  man,  since  the  earth  was 
made,  talk  ten  minutes  without  dragging  in  what 
he  calls  our  want  of  logic  ]  And  what  does  logic 
amount  to,  I  'd  like  to  know  ]  And  who  cares 
about  logic  ?  It  is  not  logic  that  we  are  discuss- 
ing, —  it  is  Leigh,  and  she  is  doing  perfectly  right." 

"  My  love,  allow  me  to  suggest  that  you  take 
another  peach  and  calm  yourself.  Your  manner 
lacks  tranquillity.  The  ladies  of  the  Vere  de 
Yere  family  were  never  known  to  talk  the  crimp 
out  of  their  hair,  as  my  friend  Mr.  Tennyson 
feelingly  remarks.  Believe  me,  my  fair  one,  your 
former  elegant  indolence  was  more  becoming." 

"  Tom,  you  are  a  provoking  boy.  Now,  why  is 
it  not  quite  as  logical  in  me  to  side  with  Leigh, 


ONE  SUMMER.  151 

without  positively  knowing  all  the  circumstances, 
as  it  is  for  you  to  agi'ee  with  Mr.  Ogden  simply 
because  he  's  a  man  1 " 

"  But  I  thought  logic  was  barred  out  of  this  con- 
versation." 

"  Dear,  if  you  can  possibly  control  that  giant 
intellect  for  which  you,  and  you  only,  entertain 
such  profound  reverence,  stop  its  '  rare  and  radi- 
ant '  witticisms  for  ten  minutes  and  listen  to  me. 
Of  course  Leigh  is  right,  and  she  will  not  be  ill, 
for  she  never  was." 

"  Magnificent  reasoning.  Incontrovertible,"  mut- 
tered Tom.  "  She  never  died,  but  I  presume—  " 

"  Be  quiet,  you  wretched  boy.  I  'm  talking  now. 
Leigh  is  perfectly  right,  and  — 

"  My  dear,  dear  Bessie,  nothing  in  the  world 
affords  me  such  pure  delight  as  the  sound  of  your 
beloved  voice  ;  but  you  have  said  and  reiterated 
'  Leigh  is  right '  so  many  times,  that  I  must  remind 
you  that  '  the  dignity  of  truth  is  lost  in  much  pro- 
testing.' " 

"  When  you  are  afraid  of  being  routed  utterly, 
you  always  quote  Shakespeare  at  me.  He  is  your 
last  resort ;  but  I  kno.w,  the  moment  you  begin  to 
brandish  him,  it  is  a  confession  of  weakness  on  your 
part,  and  he  does  n't  intimidate  me  in  the  least. 
Now,  sir,  I  will  inform  you  — as  I  should  have  done 
some  time  ago,  if  you  had  not  interfered  and  in- 
terrupted and  enjoyed  hearing  yourself  talk  — 
that  we  will  start  for  Edgecomb  Monday  morn- 
ing ;  and  what  I  have  been  trying  to  tell  you  is 
that  I  had  determined  to  go  then,  anyway,  before 
Mr.  Ogden's  letter  came." 


152  ONE  SUMMER. 

"  You  had,  had  you  1  You  bold  and  resolute 
•woman  !  You  Semiramis  — you  Judith  —  you  Ar- 
temisia —  " 

"  I  believe  those  are  all  the  names  you  know, 
dear,  without  referring  to  the  'Famous  Women 
of  Antiquity.'  You  '11  find  it  at  the  right  of  the 
fourth  shelf  in  the  library,"  suggested  Bessie,  with 
a  most  impudent  drawl. 

" '  Entreat  me  not  to  leave  thee,'  "  sang  Tom, 
mockingly. 

"  Certainly  not,  if  you  '11  be  sensible.  Really, 
Tom,  I  am  not  afraid  Leigh  will  be  ill,  though  I 
shall  do  all  I  can  to  relieve  her.  I  am  so  glad  to 
go  away  from  this  hot,  dusty  city.  We  must  go, 
if  Ave  are  ever  going.  And,  Tom  dear,  I  'm  so 
happy  that  you  can  go  too." 

"  Perfidious  woman,  no  blandishments  !  You 
were  actually  intending  to  go  without  me." 

"  Certainly." 

"  And  you  mean  to  help  Leigh  in  her  nefarious 
undertaking  ] " 

"  That  is  my  intention." 

"  And  she  is  absolute  perfection,  as  usual  1 " 

"  She  is." 

"  And  Ogden  and  I  are  imbeciles  1 " 

"  If  you  fancy  the  word,  — yes." 

"  My  dear,  I  will  drag  my  crushed  atoms  into 
the  library,  and  answer  Ogden's  letter." 

He  withdrew,  only  to  return  in  a  moment,  and 
put  his  head  in  the  door  for  a  parting  shot. 

"  Mrs.  Otis,  I  have  just  discovered  the  grand 
mistake  of  my  life.  Instead  of  marrying  you,  and 
having  you  and  your  sister  agree  in  thought,  word, 


ONE  SUMMER.  153 

and  deed,  ad  nauseam,  and  thereby  make  my  life 
miserable,  I  ought  to  have  married  both  of  you, 
and  emigrated  to  Utah,  and  then  you  would  fight 
deliciously,  and  I  should  have  some  peace.  '  Happy 
thought ! '  It  may  not  be  too  late  !  " 

"  You  goose  !     Leigh  would  n't  look  at  you  ! " 
Mr.  Otis  bowed  his  vanquished  head,  departed, 
wrote  to  his  friend  as  follows  : — 

WEDNESDAY,  August  15,  18—. 

MY  DEAR  OGDEN,  —  Yours  received.  Heaven  only 
knows  what  the  women  will  do  next.  My  wife  says  she 
is  going  to  Edgecomb  next  week,  to  be  a  ministering 
spirit  like  unto  her  sister,  and  I  expect  the  two  together 
will  twang  their  angelic  harp-strings  in  our  ears,  and 
vex  our  righteous  souls.  Can't  anything  be  done  to 
hurry  the  youngster  into  a  comfortable  convalescence  ? 
Blake's  yacht  will  be  round  there  in  the  course  of  a 
couple  of  weeks,  and  the  girls  are  good  sailors,  and 
would  like  a  trip  more  than  anything,  if  they  could  be 
torn  from  their  crotchets  and  that  boy.  I  flatter  myself 
I  have  some  influence  upon  each  individually.  To- 
gether, they  are  stronger  than  the  rock  of  Gibraltar,  and 
I  the  most  helpless  and  victimized  of  men.  I  rely  on 
you  to  poison  young  Holbrook,  or  get  him  well  instanter. 
We  shall  probably  arrive  Wednesday  next. 
Yours, 

TOM. 

And  Bessie  wrote  :  — 

LEIGH,  DEAR,  — We  shall  actually  leave  Monday,  and 
Tom  is  making  the  same  charming  announcement  to 
your  Mr.  Ogden,  who,  by  the  way,  says  that  you  are 
working  too  hard,  and  that  you  will  be  ill,  and  that  you 
have  a  will  of  your  own,  —  and  what  would  you  be 
worth  if  vou  had  not,  I  'd  like  to  inquire  !  Tom  and 
7* 


154  ONE  SUMMER. 

I  have  just  had  a  delicious  little  tiff  about  you,  and  I 
AVOU Id  n't  have  you  ill  now  for  anything  in  the  world, 
because  those  two  superior  beings  have  declared  you  will 
be.  You  won't,  will  you,  dear  /  Is  the  poor  boy  hav- 
ing a  very  hard  time  I  I  have  missed  your  long  letters 
so,  lately,  and  the  sea-breezes  they  seemed  to  bring  with 
them.  Never  again  will  I  be  a  dutiful  wife,  and  wait 
for  Tom,  —  never  !  But  it  would  have  been  hard  for 
the  dear  old  boy  to  stay  here  without  me  to  torment 
him,  Avoukl  n't  it  /  He  would  have  been  so  lonely  I  'm 
glad  I  waited,  and  perhaps  we  '11  enjoy  everything  all 
the  more,  after  the  delay  and  the  doubt.  I  am  per- 
fectly wild  to  see  you,  and  so  curious  about  Edge- 
comb,  and  the  farm-house  where  Gem  is,  and  the  long 
girl,  and  the  dreadful  woman,  and  especially  about  Mr. 
Ogden.  You  do  not  rave  about  him  so  violently  as  you 
did,  but  it  must  be  extremely  annoying  to  meet  him 
constantly  after  all  that  has  happened.  It 's  too  bad, 
dear  !  And  if  he 's  on  the  yacht,  it  will  ruin  the  trip  for 
you,  will  it  not  ?  If  only  Tom  and  Mr.  Blake  did  not 
think  so  much  of  him  ;  but  they  depend  upon  his  going. 
If  he  had  the  slightest  delicacy  he  would  not  join  the 
party.  But  that,  of  course,  is  too  much  to  expect  of 
such  a  person.  However,  1  will  not  let  any  gloomy 
foreboding  interfere  with  my  present  delight.  'Sufficient 
unto  the  day  is  the  Ogden  thereof.  It  will  be  happi- 
ness enough  to  see  you  and  breathe  some  pure  air,  and 
the  Idlewild  may  sink  in  the  "  vasty  deep  "  before  it 
reaches  Edgecomb.  Who  knows  ?  And  there  is  n't 
time  to  write  or  hear  from  you  again.  Blessed  thought ! 
We  shall  see  you,  I  believe,  Wednesday,  and  no  one  in 
the  world  will  be  so  happy  as 

Your  loving 

BESSIE. 

Philip  found  this  letter,  with  Torn's,  one  rain} 
evening,  when  he  took  his  accustomed  tramp  to 
the  post-office,  and  upon  his  return  he  sent  it  in 


ONE  SUMMER.  155 

to  Leigh,  who  received  it  with  delight,  read  it  smil- 
ingly., but  afterwards  sat  silent  and  thoughtful, 
with  the  open  letter  in  her  hand,  while  Jane,  who 
had  learned,  under  the  young  lady's  kind  and 
careful  guidance,  to  do  many  helpful  things  toler- 
ably well,  arranged  Gem's  pillow  and  gave  him  his 
medicine  and  drink.  Again  Leigh  read,  "  It  must 
be  extremely  annoying  to  meet  him  constantly," 
and,  "  If  he  is  on  the  yacht  it  will  ruin  the  trip  for 
you."  These  statements  were  clear  and  strong, 
and  authorized  by  herself,  for  Bessie's  views  were 
necessarily  but  reflections  of  her  own.  Was  it  so. 
then  1  Would  she  be  sorry  to  have  him  on  the 
yacht  1  For  ten  days,  now,  she  had  been  with 
Gem.  During  that  time,  she  had  done  what  she 
could  for  the  boy,  too  busy  to  pause  and  analyze 
the  condition  of  things,  striving  only  to  avoid  the 
Holbrook  quicksands.  She  had  thought  little  of 
herself,  less  perhaps  of  Philip,  yet  unconsciously 
had  depended  much  upon  him.  It  was  natural. 
He  was  the  only  person  of  her  caste  within  reach. 
Yet  Bessie's  letter  surprised  her.  She  did  not 
think  Mr.  Ogden  obtuse  and  intrusive.  Her  old 
self  and  her  new  self  had  met,  and  were  staring 
at  each  other  unpleasantly.  She  must  tell  Bessie 
what  Mr.  Ogden  had  done  for  her,  and  Bessie 
must  be  grateful  to  him  as  she  was.  Bessie 
must  know  how  thoughtful  he  had  been,  and 
that  he  had  saved  her  from  so  very  many  annoy- 
ances, and  that  he  had  quietly  ruled  the  whole 
queer  household,  and  that  if  ever  she  found  it 
necessary  to  ask  him  to  do  anything  for  her,  he 
did  what  she  wished  as  if  they  had  always  known 


156  ONE  SUMMER. 

each  other,  and  it  was  the  most  natural  thing  in 
the  world  that  he  should  do  it.  She  had  grown 
accustomed  to  the  grave,  steady  look  he  wore  when 
there  was  any  real  need  of  him  in  the  sick-room, 
as  well  as  to  the  appi'eciative,  quick  glance  with 
which  he  would  respond  to  the  involuntary  appeal 
for  sympathy  which  her  eyes  would  make  when 
prominent  traits  in  the  Holbrook  family  were  too 
ludicrously  shown.  Leigh  was  in  a. strange  mood. 
She  did  not  understand  herself.  But  it  would 
be  only  fair  to  tell  Bessie  that  Mr.  Ogden's  ab- 
sence would  not  increase  her  enjoyment  on  the 
yacht.  A  knock  interrupted  her  revery.  Jane 
Maria  opened  the  door. 

"  May  I  come  in  ]  "  said  Philip,  pausing  on  the 
threshold  and  looking  in  pleased  surprise  upon 
the  pretty  scene.  A  bright  fire  of  hemlock  bark 
burned  on  the  hearth,  and  threw  flickering  lights 
and  shadows  over  the  room,  giving  an  ideal  grace 
to  the  rough  walls  and  stiff  furniture.  Gem's  face, 
looking  at  him  from  the  pillows,  as  he  approached 
the  bed,  was  thin  and  pale,  with  large  eager  eyes, 
and  the  hand  which  the  child  held  out  to  him  was 
that  of  a  pathetic  and  spiritualized  Jim,  such  as 
he  had  never  expected  to  see. 

"  And  how  's  the  boy  to-night  ? " 

"  Pretty  smart.  She 's  a-sayin'  things  and 
a-singin'.  You  'd  ought  ter  hear  her.  You  stay, 
an'  she  '11  keep  on  !  "  said  Gem,  languidly. 

Philip  turned,  and  looked  inquiringly  at  Leigh. 

"  Certainly  you  may  stay,  Mr.  Ogden,  if  yon 
like.  You  need  never  wait  for  my  invitation. 
Gem  is  host." 


ONE  SUMMER.  157 

"  I  would  like  to  stay  if  I  will  not  be  in  the 
way.  How  cheerful  you  are  in  here  !  It  is  rather 
a  bad  night  out.  That  fire  is  an  inspiration. 
Yours,  I  presume,  Miss  Doane  1 " 

"  Yes  ;  it  was  so  gloomy  and  cold,  and  the  damp 
breezes  would  creep  in  everywhere,  and  I  thought 
a  fire  might  please  Gem,  and,  to  be  honest,  I  wanted 
it  myself  too.  Jane  kindly  brought  in  the  bark, 
and  I  made  it.  Is  n't  it  pretty  1  Gem  thinks  it 's 
great  fun.  He  seems  really  better,  does  he  not  1 " 

Philip  replied  in  a  low  tone.  "  He  does  seem 
bright  just  now,  but  he  is  very  variable,  you  know. 
The  doctor  said  — 

"  Ah!  don't,  please,"  she  interrupted  with  a  little 
imploring  gesture.  "  Do  prophesy  smooth  things 
to-night.  Gem  is  better.  He  is  really,  and  that 
makes  me  happy  ;  and  they  are  coming  next  week, 
Mr.  Ogden,  — my  sister  and  my  brother,  — and  that 
makes  me  almost  too  happy.  And  it  is  pleasant 
here  to-night,  is  it  not  1  Hear  the  wind  tearing 
about  outside  and  the  rain  coming  down  in  torrents. 
I  like  to  listen  to  the  storm,  because  my  Gem  is 
so  comfortable,  and  my  fire  is  so  lovely." 

She  spoke  rapidly.  Her  cheeks  were  flushed,  and 
her  eyes  bright  with  excitement. 

"  You  do  look  very  happy,"  Philip  said  kindly, 
"  and  you  have  been  a  little  pale  and  weary  for  a 
day  or  two,  have  you  not  1 " 

Leigh,  suddenly  grave,  looked  with  downcast 
eyes  into  the  flames. 

"  Have  you  not  been  tired,  lately,  Miss  Doane  1 " 
he  continued.  "  You  never  admit  that  you  are 
fatigued,  but  your  face  has  told  tales  of  you." 


158  ONE  SUMMER. 

"  So  have  you,  it  seems,  Mr.  Ogden."  And  she 
looked  up  quickly  with  a  smile. 

"  Ah  !  my  sin  has  found  me  out  !  But  you  par- 
don me  because  of  the  happy  result  ?  " 

"  I  will  pardon  you  next  Wednesday,  when 
the  happy  result  will  be  an  accomplished  fact.  I 
shall  be  happy  enough  to  forgive  anybody  for  any- 
thing." 

"  It  will  be  a  good  day,  then,  for  malefactors  to 
present  themselves  before  you  '?  "  And  a  vein  of 
earnestness  ran  through  the  light  words. 

"Happiness  ought  to  make  one  good,  Mr.  Ogden. 
I  am  not  good ;  but  perhaps  my  blessings,  Y\*ednes- 
day,  will  render  me  not  only  willing  to  forgive,  but 
—  to  be  forgiven  —  which  is  harder — sometimes/' 
Then,  as  if  she  had  said  more  than  she  meant,  feel- 
ing rather  than  seeing  Philip's  intent  look,  she 
turned  away  hastily,  and  taking  some  great  pieces 
of  bark  from  a  basket  by  the  chimney,  threw  them 
one  by  one  upon  the  blazing  h're. 

"  Don't  you  like  to  hear  it  crackle  1 "  she  gayly 
asked. 

"  I  like  everything  to-night,"  said  Philip,  with 
more  warmth  in  his  voice  than  Leigh  had  ever 
heard.  She  said  nothing,  but  heaped  more  bark, 
piece  by  piece,  upon  the  blaze;  and  Philip  ad- 
miringly watched  her  pretty  movements,  and  the 
delighted  child-smile  upon  her  face.  The  brilliant 
light  illumined  the  whole  room.  Jane  was  occu- 
pied with  Gem ;  the  rain  fell  heavily  outside. 
Where  Leigh  and  Philip  stood  there  was  silence  ; 
and  for  one  brief  moment,  to  both,  the  storm 
without,  and  Gem  and  his  sister,  seemed  far  awav. 


ONE  SUMMER.  159 

and  they  two  standing  together  in  the  firelight  were 
nearer  than  ever  before.  But  the  moment  passed, 
and,  with  it,  its  glow  and  warmth  and  pleasant 
sense  of  nearness. 

"  Miss  Leigh,"  said  a  faint  little  voice,  "was  n't 
that  a  jolly  one  1  Jest  as  good  as  a  bonfire." 

"  0  Gem  dear,  did  n't  it  hurt  your  eyes  1  I  was 
very  thoughtless." 

"Well,  it  hurt  'em  a  little,  p'r'aps;  but  I  wish 
you  'd  blaze  her  up  again.  It 's  fun." 

"  I  must  not,  dear ;  shut  the  poor  eyes,  do. 
You  shall  have  ever  so  much  more  fun  than  this 
as  soon  as  you  are  strong  again,"  she  said  as  a 
consolation. 

"  Indeed,  you  shall,  Jim,"  said  Philip,  heartily. 

"  Yes,  Jimmie,  you  shall,"  chimed  in  Jane  Maria, 
by  way  of  further  encouragement. 

"  0,  come  now,"  said  Gem,  with  a  touch  of  the 
old  sauciness,  "just  let  a  feller  alone,  won't  yerl 
I  ain't  a  baby,  if  I  am  sick,  and  I  ain't  a-goin'  to 
cry  cos  Miss  Leigh  won't  blaze  up  that  ere  bark. 
Miss  Leigh,  I  '11  shut  my  eyes  tight  as  a  drum  if 
you  '11  sing  some  more." 

And  Leigh  sang  the  songs  the  boy  liked  best, 
without,  apparently,  a  thought  of  Philip,  who  drew 
his  chair  back  from  the  hearth  and  sat  in  the 
shade,  while  the  firelight  played  fitfully  about  her, 
now  falling  upon  the  dainty  hands,  clasped  lightly 
in  her  lap,  now  aspiring,  gleaming  about  the 
white  throat  and  revealing,  for  a  moment,  the  fair 
hair  and  dark  earnest  eyes,  then  sinking  humbly 
to  her  feet.  She  did  not  sing  transcendental, 
mystical  love-songs.  She  had  found  that  they 


160  ONE  SUMMER. 

were  too  fearful  and  wonderful  for  Gem,  —  ag 
indeed  they  are  for  many  of  us,  —  and  that  they 
did  not  affect  him  pleasantly.  He  was,  if  unedu- 
cated, an  honest  critic,  who  unhesitatingly  ex- 
pressed his  mind.  A  contented,  quiet  smile 
would  indicate  his  approval,  while  a  contemptu- 
ous "  Pooh,  ain't  no  sense  in  it ! "  would  suggest 
to  Leigh  the  efficacy  of  changing  her  theme. 
She  admired  his  frank,  boyish  scorn  of  things  he 
did  not  understand  or  like,  and  she  exerted  herself 
to  please  him  far  more  than  she  was  accustomed 
to  try  to  please  some  of  her  drawing-room  critics, 
who  received  her  best  or  poorest  musical  efforts 
with  the  invariable  "  How  charming  !  "  and  with- 
out a  ray  of  real  enthusiasm.  She  had  learned  to 
know  Gem's  favorites  well.  Songs  with  pictures 
and  stories  in  them  pleased  him ;  songs  that  did 
not  almost  end,  and  then  wander  along  helplessly 
and  aimlessly  and  die  away  by  degrees,  but  that 
stopped  short  when  they  were  done ;  and  especial- 
ly songs  with  a  "jingle."  Leigh  had  gone  far 
back  into  past  years,  and  brought  out,  for  Gem's 
pleasure,  scraps  of  melody  she  had  not  sung  since 
her  childhood.  A  motley  throng  of  subjects  her 
voice  conjured  up  as  she  sat  singing  before  the 
fire,  in  a  queer  chair  a  hundred  years  old,  whose 
straight,  narrow  back,  surmounted  by  white  wood- 
en knobs  with  brass  tops,  rose  far  above  her  head. 
She  sang  bird-songs  and  boat-songs,  cradle-songs 
and  echo-songs,  ballads  about  girls  at  spinning- 
wheels,  and  knights  and  shepherdesses,  and  some 
swinging  old  cavalier  tunes  that  suggested  the  clat- 
ter of  horses'  hoofs,  and  once  —  Philip  in  his  dark 


ONE  SUMMER.  161 

corner  smiled  to  hear  the  bubbling,  sparkling  thing 
under  a  New  England  roof —  a  bit  of  a  French 
drinking-song,  which  Gem  liked  for  its  gay,  ring- 
ing melody,  and  which  Leigh  did  not  translate. 

After  a  while  Gem,  soothed  by  the  familiar 
tones,  fell  asleep.  Jane  stole  quietly  from  the 
room.  Leigh  sang  gradually  lower  and  lower, 
that  a  sudden  silence  might  not  rouse  the  child. 
She  turned,  listened  a  moment  to  his  breathing, 
then  leaned  her  head  back  with  a  long  sigh. 
Philip  came  softly  forward. 

"  You  are  very  tired,  Miss  Doane." 

"  0  no  !  "  said  Leigh,  without  glancing  up. 

"  But  that  deep-drawn  sigh  1  " 

"  There  was  no  rhyme  nor  reason  in  it,"  she 
said,  a  little  drearily. 

Philip  stood  looking  doubtfully  at  her. 

"  You  do  not  believe  me,  do  you,  Mr.  Ogden  1 " 

"  If  I  do  not,  you  would  not  think  me  very 
civil  to  say  so.  It  would  be  a  base  return  for 
your  kindness  in  allowing  me  to  hear  you  sing." 

"  But  I  was  not  singing  to  *you,"  —  looking  up 
for  the  first  time  with  her  little  audacious  air. 
"  I  sang  to  my  Gem.  Those  were  his  own  par- 
ticular songs.  Anybody  who  cared,  might  listen, 
of  course.  But  I  might  make  a  different  selec- 
tion for  you." 

"  Pardon  me.  I  knew  very  well  you  did  not 
sing  to  me.  But  the  'anybody'  who  cared  to 
listen  was  as  grateful  as  if  you  had  specially  dedi- 
cated every  song  to  him,  and  if  you  would  make  a 
different  selection  for  rne  you  would  make  a  mis- 
take. They  were  Gem's  songs,  but  they  were 


162  ONE  SUMMER. 

mine  too.  I  claim  them,  and  I  shall  keep  them.  I 
have  the  most  profound  respect  for  your  will,  Miss 
Doane.  It  is  a  mighty  power.  But  there  are 
some  things  which  even  you  cannot  accomplish. 
You  cannot  recall  the  pleasure  those  songs  have 
given  me,  nor  can  you  convince  me  that  you  are 
not  a  very  weary,  over-worked  young  lady." 

Leigh  was  not  in  a  mood  to  question  his  right 
to  say  this,  and  it  was  impossible  for  her  not  to 
feel  the  kindness  in  his  voice.  She  did  not  stop  to 
ask  herself  why  she  should  or  should  not  open  her 
heart  to  him  as  she  rose  impulsively  and  said,  — 

"  I  am  not  tired,  Mr.  Ogden.  At  least  I  do  not 
think  I  am.  I  am  perfectly  well  and  strong,  only 
I  am  not  sure  but  that  I  'm  —  homesick.  It 's 
very  absurd,  I  know,  and  weak.  I  am  quite 
ashamed  of  myself,"  she  went  on,  with  a  little 
quiver  in  her  voice. 

Philip  said  nothing,  simply  because  he  knew 
not  what  to  say.  They  stood  in  silence,  while  the 
queer  shadows  danced  about  the  room.  Leigh 
continued,  without  the  faintest  consciousness  that 
she  was  doing  anything  unusual,  and,  meeting  the 
young  man's  gaze  quite  frankly,  — 

"  I  forgot  it  when  Bessie's  letter  came.  I  was 
more  than  happy  ;  but  now  it  has  come  back,  the 
dreary  feeling.  I  never  was  away  from  her  in  my 
life  before,  you  know,  —  and  I  feel  very,  very  far 
away, —  and  it  has  been  so  long,  and  I  know  I  am 
perfectly  ridiculous,  but  I  do  not  think  I  can  help 
it."  And,  much  to  her  own  surprise,  two  great 
tears  crept  into  her  eyes,  and  still  she  stood  smil- 
ing frankly  at  Philip. 


ONE  SUMMER.  163 


turned  away  and  paced  up  and  down  the  room. 
He  saw  it  all  now  ;  of  course  it  had  been  hard  for 
her.  Not  a  soul  for  whom  she  cared,  except  Gem, 
in  the  place.  Young,  inexperienced,  and,  in  spite 
of  her  self-reliant  ways,  dependent  upon  her  home- 
life.  Days  and  days,  perhaps,  she  had  been  for- 
lorn and  desolate  at  heart,  while  her  face  had 
worn  the  pretty  little  cool  smile,  as  she  gracefully 
parried  occasional  unpleasant  thrusts  from  Mrs. 
Holbrook,  patiently  trained  the  willing  but  ineffi- 
cient Jane  in  the  way  she  should  go,  and  "com- 
passed "  Gem  with  "  sweet  observances."  It  had 
not  once  occurred  to  him  but  that  she  was  enjoy- 
ing her  strange  experience,  after  a  fashion.  She 
was  a  brave  girl,  and  only  a  girl,  after  all,  as  she 
stood  in  a  dejected,  drooping  way,  looking  sadly 
down  upon  the  brass  andirons  as  if  she  could  read 
a  gloomy  prophecy  in  their  shining  tops.  If  she 
were  not  so  physically  weary  that  she  had  uncon- 
sciously reached  out  for  sympathy,  he  knew  that 
she  would  not  have  confided  in  him.  How  dull 
he  had  been,  and  hard,  actually  arming  himself 
against  the  fresh  young  thing  !  Had  she  not  had 
a  right  to  dislike  him,  and  to  manifest  her  dislike 
plainly,  if  she  wished  1  He  walked  to  the  bed 
and  looked  at  Gem,  to  the  window  and  stared 
out  into  the  night,  then  returning  to  Leigh  stood 
waiting  for  her  to  speak.  Suddenly  she  began 
with  a  pretty  petulance,  — 

"  Is  n't  it  just  like  a  woman  to  go  and  do  the 
thing  she  wishes  to  do,  and  do  it  the  very  way  she 
wished  to  do  it,  and  then  cry  about  it  and  com- 


164  ONE  SUMMER. 

plain]"  And  she  looked  as  bright  as  a  May 
morning.  Philip  smiled. 

"  But  you  have  not  cried,  Miss  Doane." 

"Not  quite,"  she  said ;  and  again  her  eyes  filled 
with  tears  ;  "  but,  as  you  see,  I  am  ineffably  silly." 

"  Miss  Doane,"  said  Philip,  really  concerned, 
"this  has  all  been  too  much  for  you,  —  too  great 
a  strain.  Pardon  me,  but  you  seemed  so  cool,  so 
perfectly  self-reliant,  it  never  occurred  to  me  that 
you  could  be  losing  your  courage." 

"  But  I  've  not  lost  it,"  she  returned  with  some 
spirit.  "  I  do  not  know  what  is  the  matter  with 
me  to-night.  I  was  tolerably  good  when  I  felt  so 
strangely  here  at  first,  and  things  were  hard, 
and  I  was  anxious  about  Gem,  and  did  not  know 
when  my  sister  would  come  ;  and  now,  when  there 
is  not  the  slightest  reason,  I  break  down  in  this 
absurd  way." 

"  Poor  child  !  "  said  Philip  again.  And  Leigh 
forgot  to  resent  the  words  or  the  tone.  Then  he 
said  lightly  :  "  Unfortunately,  we  can  not  always 
control  our  moods,  Miss  Doane.  No  doubt,  your 
fit  of  the  blues  is  inopportune,  as  you  say.  So 
was  Jim's  illness,  according  to  our  friend  Mrs. 
Holbrook.  We  are  creatures  of  circumstance, 
knocked  about  in  spite  of  ourselves." 

"  But  you  must  think  me  veiy  foolish." 

"  You  must  think  me  very  dull  not  to  have  seen 
this  before." 

"  You  1  Why  should  you,  and  what  difference 
would  it  have  made  *?  " 

"  Not  much,  I  presume  ;  but  I  might  have  been 
able  to  make  things  easier,  and  to  be  of  some  use." 


ONE  SUMMER.  165 

"  0  Mr.  Ogden,  you  have  been  very  good  ! 
Do  you  not  know  that  you  have  1 "  said  Leigh, 
warmly.  "  I  have  not  said  much  about  it,  but  I 
am  not  ungrateful.  Indeed,  I  am  not." 

"  Have  I  really  been  good  to  you  1 "  he  asked, 
with  perhaps  more  eagerness  than  was  quite  neces- 
sary "  for  Gem's  sake."  Leigh  blushed  and,  with 
a  slight  effort,  said,  — 

"  Only  Gem  and  I  know  how  good."  He  saw 
she  used  Gem's  name  as  a  shield.  Again  he 
thoughtfully  paced  the  room. 

"  Miss  Doane,  I  have  done  nothing  for  you  or 
for  Gem  which  deserves  any  remembrance.  You 
overestimate  trifling  services  that  cost  me  nothing. 
Yet  I  would  presume  to  ask  a  favor  on  the  strength 
of  them,  for  I  fear  it  is  my  only  hope  of  influencing 
you.  Am  I  ungenerous  to  wish  to  be  paid  1 " 

';  Very,"  said  Leigh,  mischievously. 

"  But  not  unreasonable  1 " 

"  Possibly  not.  It  depends  upon  what  you  are 
going  to  ask."  Then,  with  the  sudden  softening 
of  manner  which  Philip  was  beginning  to  find 
bewitching  and  dangerous,  "  I  think  I  shall  say 
yes.  You  are  really  kind.  I  do  not  deserve  that 
you  should  be  so  kind,"  she  added  slowly.  Again, 
in  the  careless,  smiling  way:  "But  we  do  not 
get  exactly  what  we  deserve,  any  of  us,  —  do  we  1 
It  is  always  either  more  or  less.  I  hope  I  shall 
never  have  my  just  dues,  —  for  I  should  get 
such  a  wee  grain  from  the  sugar-plums  of  life. 
It  is  not  grand  to  say  so,  but  I  do  not  want  to 
see  the  beauty  of  renunciation.  I  want  to  see  the 
sugar-plums." 


166  ONE  SUMMER. 

Philip  listened,  glad  to  hear  the  merry  tone 
again ;  but  he  noticed  that  after  she  spoke  the 
smile  died  quickly  from  her  face. 

"  You  are  plainly  tired  out,"  he  said  earnestly. 
"  Do  hot  think  tne  presuming,  but  I  must  inter- 
fere. I  should  insist  upon  driving  you  to  Miss 
Phipps's,  late  as  it  is,  if  there  were  not  a  storm. 
You  think  I  would  not  succeed  1 "  he  added,  as 
Leigh  looked  incredulous.  "  But  you  do  not 
know  what  a  tyrant  I  am  when  I  am  roused,  and 
I  am  thoroughly  roused  to-night,  I  assure  you." 

"  Do  you  scratch  and  bite,  or  only  growl,  Mr. 
Ogden  ? " 

"  I  carry  my  point  amiably,  if  I  can ;  if  not  —  " 
He  shook  his  head  menacingly,  as  a  substitute  for 
words. 

"  Curious  preface  to  asking  a  favor,"  said  Leigh. 

"  Ah  !  it  was  to  be  a  favor,  was  it  not  1  As  a 
favor,  then,  may  I  speak  to  Miss  Jennie,  and  let 
her  make  some  arrangement  for  you  to-night  ] 
That  den  in  there  "  —  pointing  to  a  little  room 
which  opened  out  of  Gem's,  and  where  Leigh  occa- 
sionally snatched  an  hour's  sleep  —  "is  no  place 
for  you  to-night." 

"  Gem  will  not  be  much  care ;  see  how  well 
he  sleeps." 

"  I  am  going  to  stay  here  myself  to-night," 
Philip  said  decidedly. 

"  Such  a  pretty,  graceful  way  of  asking  a  favor  ! 
So  deprecating  and  humble  !  "  she  retorted. 

"I  beg  your  pardon,"  said  Philip,  laughing. 
"  I  do  not  intend  to  be  brusque,  but  I  am  very 
much  in  earnest.  I  shall  stay,  and  you  must  go. 


ONE  SUMMER.  167 

A  good  night's  rest  is  what  you  need  and  what  you 
must  have." 

"Don't  say  another  word.  You  apologize,  and 
then  offend  more  deeply  every  moment.  Three 
'  musts  '  in  a  row  !  No  one  ever  says  '  must '  to 
me.  Do  you  really  drive  me  away  ?  " 

"  Certainly  not.  At  least,  not  yet.  I  am  asking 
you  to  go  as  a  favor,  at  present,  you  know." 

"  Go  I  must,  evidently,"  laughed  Leigh ;  "  and 
I  think  it  will  be  more  graceful,  as  well  as  the 
part  of  wisdom,  to  grant  the  favor  rather  than  be 
ignominiously  expelled.  I  shall  take  pleasure, 
Mr.  Ogden,  in  obliging  you  and  speaking  to  Jane 
myself/'  Philip  bowed  his  thanks,  and  said,  — 

"  Will  you  add  to  my  indebtedness  by  going  at 
once  1 " 

"  I  would  vanish  up  the  chimney  if  I  knew  how  ; 
but  being  only  a  mortal  maiden,  you  must  give 
me  time  to  collect  some  of  my  belongings,"  Leigh 
answered,  passing  into  the  other  room.  Return- 
ing, she  looked  long  and  earnestly  at  Gern,  and 
arranged  a  few  articles  on  a  little  table  at  his  side, 
then  stood  still.  "You  understand  about  the 
medicine,  Mr.  Ogden  ] " 

"  I  think  I  understand  everything  I  am  expected 
to,  except  why  — 

"Why  I  do  not  go?" 

"  Exactly,  if  I  may  be  so  bold." 

"  Because  we  are  creatures  of  habit,  and  it  is 
my  habit  to  stay  here  ;  and  because  I  am  used 
to  my  own  way,  and  it  is  not  my  way  to  leave 
Gem." 

Philip  declined  further  argument.     Writh  mock 


168  ONE  SUMMER. 

ceremony  he  opened  the  door,  and  stood  with  the 
air  of  one  waiting  to  bow  her  out  of  the  room. 

"  I  am  not  at  all  sure  that  you  are  even  a  very 
polite  tyrant,"  said  Leigh  ;  "  but  I  am  really  going 
now.  Good  night,  Mr.  Ogden.  Perhaps  I  am  a 
little  tired,"  she  added.  Philip  smiled,  and  held 
out  his  hand. 

"  Good  night,  Miss  Doane,  and  pleasant  dreams, 
and  thank  you  for  everything,"  he  said  earnestly, 
as  her  hand  rested  in  his  a  moment. 

Philip  closed  the  door  after  her,  heaped  more 
bark  on  the  fire,  and  sat  down.  From  the  flame, 
from  the  ashes,  from  the  dark  corners  of  the  room, 
everywhere  he  saw  looking  out  at  him  a  pair  of 
great,  honest,  brown  eyes,  smiling  through  their 
tears.  He  knew  her  now  for  what  she  was,  he  told 
himself.  He  had  wasted  all  these  precious  days 
in  misconceiving  her,  in  arrogantly  presuming  to 
judge  her.  He  would  never  be  mistaken  again. 
She  might  be  merry  or  sad,  "  or  that  sweet  calm 
that  is  just  between."  She  might  assume,  at  will, 
her  bright  or  sombre  chameleon  colors,  might  one 
moment  be  stately  as  a  queen,  the  next  humble  as 
a  little  child,  yet  through  all  changes  he  would 
know  her.  In  her  sweet,  earnest  eyes  he  had  seen 
a  blessed  vision  of  her  true  heart.  What  was  he, 
that  she  should  care  for  him ;  yet,  could  he  teach 
those  eyes  to  look  kindly  at  him  on  his  own 
hearthstone,  he  would  ask  nothing  more  of  Fate. 


ONE  SUMMER.  169 


CHAPTER    XIV. 

"  There  's  a  pang  in  all  rejoicing, 
A  joy  in  the  heart  of  pain." 

TOM,  isn't  It  delightful  1  Nurse,  don't 
attempt  to  get  down  with  baby  in  your 
arms.  Mr.  Otis  will  take  him.  Why, 
where  is  Leigh  ] "  And,  talking  rapidly 
every  moment,  Mrs.  Otis  put  her  pretty  head  out 
of  the  stage  window,  and  eagerly  scrutinized  Miss 
Phipps's  abode. 

The  driver  swung  open  the  door.  The  Otis 
family,  an  interesting  group,  and  the  Otis  para- 
phernalia, an  imposing  pile  of  trunks,  baskets,  bags, 
and  wraps,  were  deposited  at  the  gate. 

"  Why,  Tom,  where  is  she?  Where  can  she  be  1 " 
asked  Bessie,  in  keen  disappointment,  regarding 
her  husband  with  an  air  of  suspicion,  as  if  he  had 
spirited  Leigh  away. 

"  And  where 's  the  Phipps,  which  is  more  to 
the  purpose  1  She 's  the  one  about  whom  I  feel 
most  concerned.  No  Phipps,  no  dinner ! "  said 
Tom,  ruefully,  stalking  through  the  deserted  house 
with  the  wondering  Bessie  behind  him.  "Careless 
tenants  they  !  Let 's  take  the  silver  and  go.  I  '11 
plead  emotional  insanity,  induced  by  jolting  fifteen 
miles  in  that  diabolical  stage-coach,  a  hot  August 
day." 

"  Tom,  dear  !  don't  joke  any  more.     It 's  that 


170  ONE  SUMMER. 

little  boy,"  said  Bessie,  gravely.  "  He  must  be 
worse.  Nothing  else  in  the  world  would  keep 
Leigh." 

"  My  dear,  I  'm  strongly  inclined  to  think  that 
I  might  continue  to  joke,  even  if  that  little  boy 
should  die,  because  I  never  saw  him,  you  know, 
and  I  have  n't  enough  over-soul  to  feel  very  misera- 
ble about  the  little  chap.  But  I  imagine  you  are 
right.  What  are  you  going  to  do  about  it1? 

"  We  '11  go  up  stairs,  and  get  the  least  bit  set- 
tled, and  1 11  see  that  nurse  and  baby  are  com- 
fortable, and  while  you  attend  to  the  trunks  I  '11 
find  something  for  you  to  eat."  Tom  smiled  ad- 
miringly. 

"Bessie,  for  a  woman  who  crimps  her  hair  and 
looks  awfully  superficial,  you  do  occasionally 
evince  an  uncommon  amount  of  practical  wis- 
dom. Upon  my  word,  I  never  heard  anything 
neater  in  my  life  than  that  last  hint  of  yours." 

"And  afterwards,"  continued  Bessie,  "you  must 
take  me  to  Leigh.  Help  me  up  stairs,  dear.  I  'm 
tired.  And  then  have  the  trunks  brought  up,  if 
the  driver  has  come  back."  As  they  passed  the 
door,  she  said,  "Will  you  look  at  him1?  Actu- 
ally, he 's  reposing,  complacently,  on  rny  '  Sara- 
toga,' with  my  gray  shawl  for  a  pillow,  and  wait- 
ing for  you  to  help  him,  is  he  not  1  He  has 
brought  no  one  with  him." 

"  Yes.  I  presume  he  expects  me  to  reward  him 
liberally  for  allowing  me  the  privilege  of  shoulder- 
ing my  own  baggage.  I  always  thought  I  should 
like  Arcadia,"  continued  Tom,  sentimentally. 
"  These  ingenuous  ways  appeal  to  my  better  na- 


ONE  SUMMER.  171 

ture.  T  wish  I  had  a  shepherd's  crook  with  a  blue 
ribbon  on  it.  I  would  like  to  artlessly  punch  the 
head  of  that  recumbent  youth." 

They  began  to  ascend  the  stairs.  On  the  old- 
fashioned  landing,  from  which  arose  two  smaller 
flights,  branching  off  to  the  right  and  left,  Tom 
stopped  short  with  a  terrific  shudder. 

"  Can't  do  it,  Bessie.  Can't  go  a  step  farther. 
I  'm  afraid,  mortally  afraid.  There  's  a  silence  — - 
a  spell  —  a  what  do  you  call  it- — in  this  fateful 
mansion.  Don't  you  feel  a  grewsome  chill  pene- 
trating your  marrow  1 " 

"  I  feel  dusty  and  travel-stained,  and  as  if  I 
should  like  to  change  my  dress.  Send  that  man 
up  with  the  small  hat-box  and  my  travelling-bag, 
will  you,  dear  1 " 

"But,  you  prosaic,  sordid,  petty  soul,  where,  0 
where  do  you  imagine  all  these  doors  lead  ? 
What  hateful  Errinys  broods  over  our  wanderings  'I 
What  mysteries  are  hidden  behind  these  heavy 
oaken  panels,  what  thrilling  tales  of  blood  and 
doom,  what  thing-um-bobs  ! "  he  ejaculated  in  a 
stage  whisper. 

"  If  you  must  indulge  in  flights  of  fancy  at  this 
inopportune  time,  the  correct  thing  would  be  to 
liken  the  house  to  an  enchanted  palace.  I  have 
a  suspicion  your  language  is  borrowed  from  a 
dime-novel." 

"No,  my  love,  from  Thoth,"  remarked  Tom, 
solemnly. 

"  And  who,  or  what,  in  the  world  is  Thoth  1 " 

"Thoth,  my  poor  ignorant  spouse,"  explained 
Tom,  with  a  bewildering  and  triumphant  smile, 


172  ONE  SUMMER. 

"was  the  god  of  eloquence  of  the  ancient  Egyptians, 
from  which  elegant  and  exclusive  race,  by  the  wav, 
the  Otis  family  is  descended.  We  have  our  gene- 
alogy complete,  an  unbroken  line,  preserved,  on 
papyrus,  from  an  epoch  anterior  to  the  reign 
of  the  Hyksos.  Thoth  is  a  considerably  older  and 
more  aristocratic  deity  than  Apollo.  You  did  n't 
know  it,  did  you,  poor  dear  1 " 

"  I  never  could  account  for  it  before,"  said  Bes- 
sie, coolly  ignoring  his  tone  of  commiseration,  and 
gravely  scrutinizing  her  husband's  genial  counte- 
nance, "but  now  I  know  why,  sometimes,  your 
features  in  repose  remind  me  of  an  Egyptian 
mummy ;  but  you  cannct  help  it,  can  you,  poor 
dear  ?  Tom,  we  are  dreadfully  silly.  Do  hurry  with 
that  hat-box,  or  I  shall  go  down  myself."  Tom 
descended  three  stairs  obediently,  and  halted.  Bes- 
sie had  glanced  into  Leigh's  room,  recognized  it, 
then  had  entered  her  own  and  thrown  herself, 
gratefully,  into  the  open  arms  of  the  big  chair,  the 
only  thing  in  the  house  that  seemed  to  expect  and 
welcome  her. 

"  Bessie,"  called  Tom  from  the  stairs,  "  before  I 
go  a  step  farther,  I  want  to  know  one  thing.  You, 
with  your  usual  felicity  of  expression,  liken  this 
house  to  an  enchanted  palace.  May  I,  0,  may  I 
imprint  a  tender  kiss  upon  the  lips  of  the  sleep- 
ing beauty,  if  I  find  one,  as  I  undoubtedly  shall  in 
this  mysterious  place1?  Have  I  your  full  and  free 
permission,  to  be  followed  by  no  tearful,  jealous 
reproaches  1 " 

"  Certainly,  my  gallant  young  prince,  certainly," 
said  Bessie,  graciously.  "  You  '11  find  the  fairest 


ONE  SUMMER.  173 

of  the  fair  asleep  in  nurse's  arms,  down  stairs ; 
hut  don't  wake  him,  please.  And,  Tom,"  she  added, 
choking  with  laughter,  "  there  's  another  one.  — 
don't  have  any  scruples  on  my  account,  —  that 
man  sound  asleep  out  on  my  trunks.  You  may 
wake  him  as  soon  as  you  please." 

"Bother!"  said  Tom. 

"  Dear,  was  that  classic  quotation  prevalent 
among  the  ancient  Egyptians,  and  suggested  by 
your  friend  Thoth  1 "  came  languidly  from  the 
depths  of  the  great  chair,  in  the  sweetest  voice 
imaginable.  "  Poor  boy  !  You  seem  to  need  to 
invoke  his  aid  often  enough,  even  now.  What  will 
you  do  when  Leigh  comes  1 " 

"  I  am  going  to  interest  myself,  at  once,  in  Cory- 
don  and  the  trunks,"  was  the  meek  response. 
"  '  Some  griefs  gnaw  deep,'  and  for  '  some  woes ' 
work  is  the  only  means  of  relief." 

An  hour  after,  they  were  driving  to  the  Holbrook 
cottage.  It  was  about  six,  the  close  of  a  hotter 
day  than  often  came  to  breezy  Edgecomb,  even 
in  August.  Upon  the  road  they  met  some  of  the 
village  folk,  and  were  greeted  with  supernaturally 
solemn  stares. 

"  I  believe  Leigh  is  right,"  said  Tom.  "  There 
is  something  uncanny  about  this  place.  I  don't 
blame  her  for  being  belligerent  in  this  atmosphere. 
Moses  himself  would  feel  pugnacious  here." 

"  It  is  the  dust  in  your  throat  that  makes 
you  cross,  dear,"  suggested  the  practical  Bessie. 
"  Everything  does  seem  new  and  strange,  but  I 
fancy  it  is  only  because  there  was  no  one  to  meet 
us  at  the  house.  That  child  must  be  very  ill." 


174  ONE  SUMM2U. 

"I  should  say  so,". ejaculated  Tom.  "  Beho\cl 
the  vultures  !  "  indicating  several  groups  of  people 
standing  silently,  or  talking  in  low  and  ominous 
tones,  at  a  little  "distance  from  the  cottage. 

"  Hush,  dear,  they  mean  it  kindly." 

"  But  what  are  we  going  to  do  now  ] "  asked  Tom, 
dubiously,  as  they  stood  by  the  roadside  near  where 
he  had  fastened  his  horse.  "  We  certainly  have  no 
intention  of  going  in  where  Leigh  is,  and  perhaps 
she  cannot  come  out.  Had  n't  we  better  go  back  1 
We  can  do  no  good  here,"  he  said,  with  a  man's 
impatience  at  the  anomalous  position. 

"  We  will  wait  a  moment,"  answered  Bessie, 
quietly.  "  I  think  Leigh  will  come.  Perhaps  she 
will  see  us.  Dear,  look ;  little  Gem  must  be 
there  where  the  windows  are  so  wide  open  and 
the  people  are  moving  about,  —  and  oh  !  Tom, 
dear,  what  is  that  1  Is  n't  it  he  groaning  ] "  And 
she  sank  down  on  the  bank,  putting  her  hands  over 
her  ears.  "  How  can  these  people  have  the  heart 
to  stay  so  near,  only  to  listen  to  such  dreadful 
sounds  !  " 

"  The  Evil  One  himself  brought  us  here,  but  in 
spite  of  him  and  his  works  you  are  going  back," 
muttered  Tom,  turning  the  horse.  "  Pretty  ending 
to  the  hard  day  you  've  had.  I  don't  mean  that 
the  ghouls  and  vampires  shall  gloat  over  you,  my 
dear  ;  and  they  will  if  you  stay  here  much  longer." 

A  tall,  angular  person  left  her  place  among  the 
women  who  stood  nearest  the  house,  and,  ap- 
proaching a  window,  beckoned  to  some  one  within. 

"  Come,  Bessie,"  said  Tom. 

"  Wait  one  moment,  dear.     If  Leigh  does  not 


ONE  SUMMER.  175 

come,  I  will  go."  But  Leigh  came.  In  answer  to 
the  summons  she  appeared  at  the  door.  Under 
the  thick  hop-vines  that  climbed  over  the  porch 
she  stood  one  instant,  pale,  erect,  with  widely  open 
eyes.  She  did  not  need  the  gesture  from  Miss 
Phipps  that  indicated  where  she  should  look  for 
her  sister.  She  passed  the  waiting,  watching 
neighbors  as  if  she  saw  them  not,  and,  with 
closely  set  lips  and  a  hard,  strained  look  in  her 
eyes,  went  rapidly  through  the  gate  and  down  the 
road,  and  flung  herself  into  her  sister's  arms  with- 
out one  word  of  greeting. 

"  I  must  go  back  now,"  she  said. 

"  Ah,  dear,  not  so  soon,"  pleaded  Bessie  ;  "  you 
look  so  ill."  She  dared  not  ask  how  Gem  was. 
His  pitiful  moans  reached  them  through  the  still- 
ness. Bessie  shuddered,  but  Leigh's  face  looked 
gray  and  hard  as  if  carven  out  of  granite. 

"  It  is  dreadful  to  hear  him,  is  it  not  ? "  she 
said  ;  "  but  he  does  not  know.  The  doctor  says 
he  is  not  conscious  of  his  suffering." 

"  Is  there  no  hope"? "  asked  Tom. 

"  Very  little,"  said  Leigh,  in  a  dry,  mechanical 
tone.  "  He  has  been  this  way  for  days.  He  will 
do  that  hours  longer;  but  we  shall  know  before 
morning." 

"  Ah  !  there  's  Ogden,"  exclaimed  Tom.  And  he 
walked  forward  to  grasp  cordially  Philip's  out- 
stretched hand.  Under  these  strange  auspices, 
Philip  met  his  old  friend  and  was  presented  to 
Mrs.  Otis,  who,  even  in  the  painful  excitement  of 
the  moment,  found  herself  wondering  what  Leigh 
saw  to  dislike  in  him. 


176  ONE  SUMMER. 

"  I  must  go  back,"  exclaimed  Leigh,  impatiently, 
"  I  cannot  bear  it  out  here."  And  she  turned 
towards  the  house.  "  0,  if  these  people  would 
only  go  away  !  How  can  they  be  so  cruel  1  How 
can  they  stay  and  listen,  when  they  care  nothing 
for  my  poor  little  Gem  !  "  And  a  flush  of  indigna- 
tion passed  over  her  pale  face. 

"  They  are  not  unkind,"  said  Philip,  pityingly. 
"  It  seems  strange  to  us  ;  but  it  is  only  their  way. 
I  think  they  are  all  sorry  in  their  hearts,  Miss 
Doane." 

"Are  they?"  said  Leigh,  drearily.  "  I  did  not 
know  ;  but  I  wish  they  would  go  away  ! "  she  re- 
peated. Bessie  seized  her  hand. 

"  Dear,  come  with  us.  You  can  do  no  good 
there,  and  you  are  worn  out,  and  it  is  so  hard  for 
you." 

"  No,  Bessie,  I  cannot." 

"  Let  me  drive  you  down  with  Bessie,"  begged 
Tom,  affectionately,  putting  his  hands  on  her 
shoulders  and  drawing  her  gently  towards  the 
wagon.  "  Please,  let  me,  Leigh." 

"  No,  Tom,"  said  Leigh,  with  the  same  immov- 
able face. 

"  Perhaps  I  shall  run  away  with  you  against 
your  will,"  said  Tom,  trying  to  speak  lightly. 
Leigh  stepped  to  Bessie's  side. 

"  Dear,  I  cannot  talk  now ;  but  it  is  better  for 
me  to  be  with  Gem.  Tom,  you  do  not  know. 
You  tell  them,"  she  said,  turning  to  Philip ; 
"you  understand."  And,  putting  her  arms  round 
Bessie's  neck,  she  kissed  her  once,  and,  without 
another  word,  went  swiftly  back  to  the  house. 


ONE  SUMMER.  177 

Tom  looked  very  much  as  if  he  were  going  after 
her.  In  answer  to  his  glance,  Philip  said,  — 

"  Better  let  her  stay,  Otis.  She  's  about  worn 
out,  but  one  night  more  can't  make  much  differ- 
ence. I  think  Miss  Doane  meant  that  she  found 
it  harder  to  control  herself  away  from  Gem  than 
with  him,  even  if  she  can  do  nothing  for  him,  did 
she  not,  Mrs.  Otis  1 " 

"  Yes,"  said  Bessie,  sadly.  "  I  wanted  her  to 
come  with  me,  but  it  would  be  cruel  to  take  her 
away,  and  you  '11  take  care  of  her,  Mr.  Ogden,  will 
you  not  1 "  she  said,  holding  out  her  hand  with  a 
look  full  of  confidence.  "  It  is  not  like  leaving  her 
with  strangers  " ;  and  she  made  a  faint  attempt  to 
smile.  "  If  you  were  not  here,  I  could  not  leave 
her  to  go  about  with  that  poor  pale  face,  and  those 
great  wild  eyes."  And  the  tears  rolled  down  Bes- 
sie's cheeks.  "  I  would  n't  be  of  the  least  use  if 
1  should  stay,  would  1 1 " 

"  I  think  not,  Mrs.  Otis.  No  one  can  do  any- 
thing but  wait  for  the  result.  It  must  come  soon. 
You  may  be  sure  I  will  not  be  neglectful  of  the 
trust  you  give  me,"  he  added  gratefully. 

"  You,  of  use  ?  You  look  like  it,  you  fluttering, 
tearful  thing,"  said  Tom  to  his  wife,  with  mock 
fierceness.  "  The  question  is,  Ogden,  have  I,  or 
have  I  not,  any  marital  authority  ]  There  are 
times  of  agony  and  despair,  when  tongue  cannot 
express  my  sufferings,  and  I  am  forced  to  respond, 
No,  I  have  none  whatever  ;  but  occasionally  comes 
a  moment  like  this,"  —  and  without  more  ado  he 
coolly  lifted  his  wife  into  the  wagon,  —  "  which 
gives  me  strength  and  courage  for  the  future." 

8*  L 


178  ONE  SUMMER. 

Bessie  smiled,  but  said,  "  O  Tom ! ;>  reprov- 
ingly. 

"  I  'm  sorry  for  the  boy  in  there,"  said  he,  "  but 
I  think  so  much  hearse  and  funeral  trappings 
entirely  premature.  I  've  heard  of  a  woman  who 
lived  in  a  shroud,  night  and  day,  for  twenty  years. 
When  one  would  wear  out  she  'd  have  another,  — 
the  way  my  wife  does  with  what  she  calls  her 
spring-suits,  —  but  I  'm  inclined  to  regard  things 
more  cheerfully,  and  I  think  that  child  will  see 
daylight  yet." 

"  I  think  so,  Tom,"  said  Philip.  "  He  's  had  a 
tough  time  of  it,  but  I  have  not  been  able  to  be- 
lieve that  this  is  the  end  of  the  bright  little  fel- 
low." 

"  Ogden,  let  me  know  if  I  can  be  of  any  use.  I 
leave  that  wilful  girl  in  your  hands.  Bring  her 
down  to  us  if  she  faints.  I  hope  everything  will 
come  out  all  right." 

"  I  hope  and  believe  it  will.  This  is  Miss 
Doane's  '  happy  Wednesday.'  She  was  anticipat- 
ing it  with  the  utmost  eagerness  and  delight," 
said  Philip,  gravely.  "  However  it  may  end,  I 
shall  bring  her  into  the  village  early  to-morrow 
morning." 

With  an  exchange  of  glances  that  said  far 
more  than  their  words,  the  two  men  shook  hands 
warmly,  and  Tom  drove  off.  Exhausted  by  the  emo- 
tions she  had  experienced  after  the  fatigue  of  the 
day,  and  seeming  still  to  hear  the  moans  of  the 
child,  Bessie  silently  leaned  close  to  her  husband. 

"  Poor  little  girl !  "  he  said,  the  jesting  tone 
quite  gone  from  his  voice. 


ONE  SUMMER.  179 

"  Is  n't  it  dreadful  1 "  said  Bessie,  after  some 
moments.  "  And  we  expected  so  much  !  And 
our  poor  Leigh  looking  like  a  ghost,  and  every- 
thing so  miserable  !  How  hard  it  is  to  be  happy 
in  this  world  !  " 

''  What  a  Lady  Macbeth  she  'd  make  !  "  said 
Tom,  deliberately  ignoring  her  despondent  tone. 
"  She  had  the  horror  in  her  eyes  to  perfection. 
If  she  had  only  rubbed  her  hands  together.  That 
was  all  that  was  wanting." 

"  Do  you  suppose  it  will  ever  be  pleasant  here  ] 
It  seems  to  me  1  shall  hear  that  child  all  my  life." 

"  My  dear,  it  is  not  an  hilarious  beginning,  I  ad- 
mit, but  I  '11  prophesy  that  Ogden  will  bring  Leigh 
down,  with  good  tidings,  in  the  morning.  The  boy 
will  get  better  ;  and  if  all  Leigh  says  of  him  is  true, 
you  '11  hear  his  voice  in  sounds  a  vast  deal  jollier 
than  groans." 

"  But,  dear,  it  is  impossible  to  know  surely." 

"  '  We  can't  'most  always  sometimes  tell '  much 
of  anything  in  this  world,  but  we  won't  bear  any 
unnecessary  burdens.  I  have  a  presentiment  the 
little  chap  is  going  to  get  well,"  said  he,  stoutly. 
And  Bessie  was  comforted  by  his  cheery  tones,  as 
he  meant  she  should  be,  in  spite  of  herself. 

When  they  arrived  at  the  house  he  took  her  in 
his  strong  arms,  and,  carrying  her  up  stairs  like  a 
child,  deposited  her  in  the  big  chair 

Bessie  smiled  at  him. 

"  Tom,  you  are  a  good  boy,  if  you  are  silly 
sometimes." 

"  You  flatter  me,  upon  my  honor,  you  do, 
really." 


180  ONE  SUMMER. 

"  Tom,  I  want  to  tell  you  something." 

"  My  ears  are  open,"  he  said,  as  she  hesitated. 

"  Leigh  and  Mr.  Ogden,"  she  began,  "  are  — 
that  is,  they  will  be  —  I  mean  —  I  think  so.  Of 
course,  one  can't  know  certainly  about  such  things, 
but  still,  Tom,  I  feel  perfectly  sure  —  yes,  per- 
fectly." 

"  I  never  was  accused  of  being  hypercritical, 
but  I  think  I  may  say  that  I  have,  in  the  course 
of  my  life,  listened  to  a  more  fluent  and  lucid  an- 
nouncement of  a  person's  views,"  said  Tom,  gravely. 
"  My  dear,  I  would  not  presume  to  dictate,  but 
would  humbly  suggest  —  as  the  old  deacon  said  ill 
his  prayer  —  that  you  try  that  again." 

"  Why,  do  you  not  understand,  clear  1  It 's  quite 
clear.  Did  you  not  notice  her  when  she  turned 
to  him  as  she  went  away,  and  said,  '  You  under- 
stand '  ] ". 

"  What  if  she  did  ] "  Tom  said  bluntly.  "  That  '3 
nothing.  He  's  been  in  the  house  with  her  three 
weeks.  Of  course  he  understands.  Do  you  im- 
agine it  takes  a  man  of  Ogden's  sense  as  long  as 
that  to  see  through  a  woman's  whims  1 " 

"  But,  dear,  she  felt  that  he  would  understand 
her  better  than  you  or  I.  Better  than  I,  her  own 
sister.  Is  that  nothing?  And  did  you  not  see 
the  look  in  his  eyes  when  he  watched  her  as  she 
went  back  to  the  house  1 " 

"  I  hope  I  have  someting  better  to  do  in  this 
world  than  watching  men's  eyes,  and  ferreting 
out  incipient  love-affairs,"  laughed  Tom. 

"  This  is  not  an  incipient  love-affair,  by  any 
means,"  said  Bessie,  wisely. 


ONE  SUMMER.  181 

"  And  you  had  time  to  discover  all  this  in  those 
few  moments  ?  And  that  was  why  you  smiled 
your  prettiest,  and  made  up  to  Ogden  so  tremen- 
dously, the  minute  you  put  your  eyes  on  him  ? 
0,  these  women  ! "  And  Tom  whistled. 

"  Dear,  you  exaggerate.  I  could  n't  have  smiled 
much.  I  was  feeling  too  badly.  And  George 
Eliot  makes  somebody  say,  '  She  's  not  denyin' 
that  women  are  foolish.  God  A'mighty  made 
'em  to  match  the  men,' "  rejoined  Bessie,  trium- 
phantly. 

"  And  what  does  '  to  match  the  men '  mean  1 
To  be  what  we  are  not  1  A  complement  1  It 
strikes  me  that  is  the  reasonable  interpretation," 
chuckled  Tom. 

"  Don't  joke,  Tom,"  said  Bessie,  solemnly. 

"  That 's  good.  Pardon  me  for  recriminating ; 
but  if  I  mistake  not  you  began  it  this  time." 

"  Never  mind  if  I  did,  dear.  How  do  you  sup- 
pose little  Gem  is  now  ] " 

"  Improving  —  improving  rapidly,"  said  Tom, 
with  decision. 

"  Tom,"  said  Bessie,  after  a  moment's  thought, 
"  you  may  not  think  I  know  much,  but  there  are 
some  things  which  women  always  see  quicker  than 
men.  You  need  not  deny  it,  for  men  themselves 
admit  it,  and  I  know  —  I  know,"  she  repeated 
emphatically,  "  that  Mr.  Ogden  is  very  much  in- 
terested in  Leigh." 

"Can't  a  man  look  after  a  pretty  girl  as  she 
walks  off,  without  being  spoony  1 " 

"  No  ;  at  least,  not  as  Mr.  Ogden  looked ;  and 
'  spoony '  is  not  a  pretty  word,  my  dear." 


182  ONE  SUMMER. 

Tom  took  a  plaster-of-paris  image  of  "  Praying 
^Samuel "  from  the  mantel,  and  eyed  it  reflectively. 

<(  It  is  then  your  firm  conviction,  you  small  and 
sapient  woman,  that  Ogden  and  Leigh  will  eventu- 
ally—" 

"  Yes,  dear,  if  you  don't  interfere." 

"  1 1      Why  should  1 1 " 

"  I  do  not  mean  that  you  would  interpose  any 
real  objections  and  obstacles,"  said  Bessie,  with  a 
smile  ;  "  but  you  must  not  tease  Leigh." 

"0,  I  must  not,  must  I]"  said  Tom,  wickedly. 

"  Not  for  a  momaut,"  replied  Bessie,  with  great 
earnestness.  "  You  sae  this  is  an  extremely  pre- 
carious affair.  They  have  been  quarrelling  all  the 
time.  When  two  persons  in  their  frame  of  mind 
quarrel  and  then  '  make  up,'  as  the  children  call  it, 
it  is  lovely,  perfectly  lovely  ;  but  you  must  not  say 
a  word  to  Leigh.  I  wish  ive  had  quarrelled,"  she 
said,  a  little  enviously.  "  It  makes  a  courtship 
very  much  more  brilliant." 

Tom  looked  immensely  amused. 

"  Nobody  shall  say  I  have  not  a  chivalrous  and 
lover-like  soul.  I  '11  quarrel  with  you  to  an  unlim- 
ited extent.  I  '11  show  you  heights  of  fine  fight- 
ing such  as  you  never  dreamed  of.  Just  say  the 
word  !  When  shall  we  begin  ]  " 

"  0,  it  's  not  the  same  thing  !  It 's  not  half 
so  nice  to  quarrel  now,"  she  said,  regretfully. 
"  Tom,  dear,  the  very  nicest  thing  now  is  for  you 
always  to  do  exactly  what  I  say.  You  promise 
to  say  nothing  to  Leigh  1  " 

"  I  am  to  understand,  then,  that  my  lady  ap- 
proves of  the  match  1 " 


ONE  SUMMER.  183 

"  Yes  —  I  think  —  I  —  do,"  said  Bessie,  slowly. 
"I  like  him.  I  liked  him  at  once  ;  his  voice  and  his 
face  and  his  manner.  And  you  like  him  so  much, 
Tom,  of  course  that  influences  me,"  she  went  on 
demurely.  "  You  have  told  me  so  much  about  him, 
and  you  know  you  have  most  excellent  judgment. 
Please  promise,  Tom,"  she  said  coaxingly. 

"  A  man,"  began  Tom  in  a  tragic  manner,  "  who 
can  resist  this  amount  of  wheedling  is  a  cynic  ;  nay, 
a  misogynist,  whom  't  were  base  flattery  to  call  a 
villain."  And,  striking  an  attitude,  he  looked  up  to 
imaginary  galleries  for  applause.  "  I  promise  not 
to  molest  the  two  innocents.  I  swear  it,"  he  ex- 
claimed in  a  sepulchral  and  stagy  tone  suggestive 
of  slow  music,  blue  fire,  and  fiends.  "  Now  are 
you  satisfied  1  The  sooner  that  tired  head  of  yours 
is  on  its  pillow  the  better.  I  am  going  down  to 
the  door  for  a  smoke."  Shortly  after  he  called 
from  the  porch,  "  Bessie  !  " 

"  Hush,  dear,"  she  said,  coming  to  the  stairway. 
"  Speak  low,  or  you  '11  wake  baby.  What  is  it  1 " 

"  Leigh's  heaped-up  vituperation  of  Ogden  was 
all  a  hoax,  feminine  duplicity,  was  it  1 " 

"  Not  at  all  ! "  was  the  indignant  response. 
"  She  was  perfectly  sincere.  Can't  a  girl  change 
her  mind  1 " 

"  I  have  heard  it  faintly  intimated  that  she 
can,"  said  Tom,  dryly. 

"  Leigh  disliked  him  extremely  in  the  first 
place." 

"  Whew  !  "  said  Tom.  "  When  do  you  suppose 
the  wondrous  change  began  1 " 

"  How  do  I  know  1      Why  do  you  wish  to  work 


184  ONE  SUMMER. 

it  out  like  a  problem  in  geometry  ?  Men  never  do 
appreciate  these  fine  points." 

"  I  presume  not ;  still,  rny  dear,  I  think  it  is  but 
fair  to  state,  that  while  your  assumption,  with  re- 
gard to  our  young  friend,  may  or  may  not  be  veri- 
fied in  the  future,  as  yet  I  have  seen  no  evidence 
that  corroborates  your  views ;  which  are,  to  my 
mint!,  "hasty,  ill-formed,  unfounded,  and,  need  I 
add,  essentially  feminine." 

"  Tom,  if  you  say  another  word  in  that  heavy 
judicial  style,  I  shall  fall  asleep  here,  standing  on 
my  feet.  What  you  think  or  do  not  think  upon 
this  subject  does  not  signify  in  the  least.  /  do  not 
think,  I  knoiv.  All  you  are  to  do  is  to  behave,  and 
await  the  result." 

"  Which  I  'm  perfectly  willing  to  do.  It 's  Og- 
den's  funeral,  not  mine,  and  either  of  them  could 
do  worse." 

"  And  you  '11  be  very  good,  and  not  trouble 
Leigh  1" 

"  Have  I  not  promised,  importunate  being  1 " 

"  Yes,  Tom,  you  did,"  said  Bessie,  contritely. 
"  I  know  you  '11  be  good.  Good  night,  dear." 

Tom  sat  and  smoked  until  he  heard  Miss  Phipps 
coining  in  the  side  entrance.  He  went  out  to  meet 
her,  and  to  ask  how  Gem  was.  As  yet  there  was 
no  change.  He  returned  to  the  porch  and  his 
cigars.  "  The  little  fellow  will  pull  through,"  he 
thought  cheerily.  "  And  we  actually  have  stum- 
bled upon  a  romance  so  soon,  if  my  little  wife  is 
right,  and  I  rather  think  she  is.  0,  these  women  ! 
these  women  !  " 


ONE  SUMMER.  185 


CHAPTER    XV. 


"  Pleasantly  murmured  the  brook  as  they  crossed  the  ford  in  the 

forest, 
Pleased  with  the  image  that  passed  like  a  dream  of  love  through  its 

bosom, 

Tremulous,  floating  in  air,  o'er  the  depths  of  the  azure  abysses. 
Down  through  the  golden  leaves,  the  sun  was  pouring  his  splen- 
dors." 

LONGFELLOW. 

' '  To  hate  the  Devil  and  all  his  works  is  one  thing.     To  say  who  is 
the  Devil  and  what  are  his  works  is  another."—  Miss  THACKERAY. 


UT  you  do  not  faint,  Miss  Doane,  nor  cry, 
nor  even  look  pale,  nor  fulfil  in  the  slight- 
est degree  my  preconceived  theories  with 
regard  to  the  way  in  which  young  ladies 
conduct  themselves  after  an  excess  of  emotion." 

"  I  should  be  sorry  to  seem  impertinent,  but 
do  you  write  for  the  magazines,  Mr.  Ogden  ]  Ex- 
cept in  recent  essays  upon  young  women,  I  never 
met  with  such  extraordinary  ideas  as  yon  advance. 
I  wonder  if  you  can  he  in  earnest.  What  do  you 
think  of  us,  anyway  1 "  And  she  turned  her  frank, 
sxmny  face  directly  towards  him.  Her  eyes  looked 
unnaturally  large  and  bright,  and  her  cheeks  were 
flushed  crimson. 

Philip  glanced  at  her  as  she  sat  beside  him  in 
the  rumbling  old  wagon.  What  he  thought  of 
young  ladies  as  a  class  was  one  thing.  What  he 
thought  of  her  individually  was  another,  and  the 
hour  for  telling  her  was  not  yet  come. 


186  ONE  SUMMER. 

"  I  did  not  know  that  young  ladies  could  work 
as  hard  as  you  have  worked  for  three  weeks,  crown 
it  all  by  a  night  of  extreme  anxiety  without  one 
moment's  sleep,  and  then  look  brilliantly  happy 
at  '  five  o'clock  in  the  morning.'  " 

"  But  everything  looks  happy  and  fresh  and 
lovely.  I  never  was  so  blessed  in  my  life.  Was  n't 
that  the  sweetest  smile  you  ever  saw  that  he  gave 
me  1  Was  n't  it  1 "  she  repeated  eagerly. 

Thus  urged,  Philip  deceitfully  assented,  making, 
however,  a  mental  reservation  in  favor  of  the  smile 
which  was  then  delighting  his  eyes. 

"And  then  he  went  otf  into  that  lovely,  quiet 
sleep !  Do  hear  those  birds !  How  glad  they 
sound  !  This  air  is  simply  intoxicating  !  0  Mr. 
Ogden,  what  if  he  should  want  me  when  he 
wakes ! " 

"  He  is  too  weak  to  want  much  of  anything  to- 
day ;  but  if  he  should  want  you  by  and  by,  you 
must  let  him  want,  Miss  Doane.  The  danger  is 
over,  and  Jane  does  wonders  now,  thanks  to  you, 
and  I  shall  be  there.  I  do  not  think  he  will  miss 
you  just  }ret." 

"  But  lie  knew  me.  He  looked  directly  at  me. 
Why,  you  saw  htm  !  He  smiled,  you  know,"  she 
said  with  feverish  haste. 

"  Indeed  he  did.  He  smiled  directly  at  you, 
and  at  no  one  else,  and  you  deserved  that  mark 
of  favor.  How  changed  the  boy  is  !  He  looks 
older,  altogether  different  from  the  Jim  I  found 
when  I  came  here." 

"  Gem  was  changed  in  many  respects  before  his 
illness,  from  the  mocking  little  mischievous  elf 


ONE  SUMMER.  187 

who  perched  upon  Miss  Phipps's  fence  in  the  twi- 
light the  first  time  I  ever  saw  him,  and  seemed 
like  a  bird  of  ill-omen  because  T  felt  so  desolate. 
And  then  he  went  flying  and  shrieking  through 
the.  gloom  in  the  most  astonishing  manner.  It 
was  the  same  evening,"  she  began  thoughtlessly, 
and  then  stopped. 

"Gem  was  improving  wonderfully,"  said  Philip, 
coming  quietly  to  her  relief.  "  How  did  you  man- 
age it  1 " 

"  0,  I  did  very  little,  I  assure  you  !  It  was 
all  his  own,  dear,  little  bright  self.  I  have  not  a 
bit  of  a  mission  or  a  call  or  a  sphere  or  an  any- 
thing of  the  sort.  Gem  has  taught  me  more  than 
I  have  him,  and  has  been  of  the  greatest  service 
to  me  in  a  thousand  ways.  I  think  you  did  him 
good,  Mr.  Ogden." 

"I1?"  said  Philip,  in  real  surprise.  "Not  a  bit 
of  it !  I  'm  the  last  man  in  existence  to  go  about 
reforming  his  fellow-creatures,"  he  went  on  with 
some  bitterness.  "Miss  Doane,  I  lead  the  most 
selfish,  aimless  life  in  existence.  No  man  ever 
'was  of  less  use." 

"  Delightful !  "  exclaimed  Leigh  ;  "I  always  en- 
courage sentiments  of  that  kind.  It  is  so  seldom 
one  sees  a  man  show  the  least  humility,  and  when 
he  does,  it  is  over  so  soon,  and  he  immediately 
forgets  that  he  ever  knew  the  meaning  of  the 
word.  But,  Mr.  Ogden,  you  do  preach,  you  know, 
sometimes,"  she  said,  laughing.  "  Gem  told  me 
about  the  snail-sermon." 

"  And  Gem  told  me  about  your  anaconda  lec- 
ture," Philip  returned  coolly. 


188  ONE  SUMMER. 

"  I  hoped  that  he  would  tell,  since  I  had  the 
pleasure  of  listening  to  a  synopsis  of  your  eloquent 
dissertation  upon  the  '  chameleon,' "  said  Leigh, 
unabashed  ;  but  she  changed  the  subject.  "  Did 
you  lose  all  hope  yesterday  ]  " 

"No,  I  think  not.  I  was  extremely  anxious, 
but  I  did  not  quite  give  him  up.  Did  you '? " 

"  Not  until  those  people  came  and  listened,  and 
then  I  really  think  I  despaired  of  everything. 
They  seemed  so  hideous  and  cruel  and  ghoulish. 
They  made  me  frantic.  I  fairly  hated  them." 

"  I  do  not  doubt  it.  You  looked  as  if  you 
did." 

"How  very  difficult  it  is  to  be  charitable  to  peo- 
ple whose  ways  one  does  not  understand  !  "  Leigh 
said,  thoughtfully. 

"  Perhaps  that  is  why  I  do  fashionable  girls  such 
injustice,"  Philip  said  with  a  smile. 

Leigh  turned  towards  him  quickly.  "  Mr.  Ogden, 
I  'm  the  happiest  girl  in  the  world  this  morning, 
and  I  think-  I  'in  tolerably  amiable,  but  I  shall 
grow  savage  in  two  minutes,  if  you  begin  to  talk 
about  '  fashionable  girls,'  like  the  magazines  and* 
newspapers." 

"  But  I  cannot,  even  for  the  pleasant  little  ex- 
citement of  seeing  you  grow  savage.  My  conversa- 
tion is  not  up  to  the  required  standard  of  magazine 
articles  or  even  newspapers,  I  'm  afraid.  But  what 
is  it  that  rouses  your  indignation  1 " 

"  I  'm  tired  of  reading  and  hearing  about  fashion- 
able girls.  What  is  a  '  fashionable  girl '  1  Do  you 
know  1  Does  anybody  know  1 "  Leigh  went  on  im- 
petuously. "  People  use  the  phrase  as  if  it  invari- 


ONE  SUMMER.  189 

ably  meant  shallow,  empty-headed,  and  vain.  I 
never  could  see  that  there  was  anything  Christian 
in  making  one's  self  look  dowdy.  May  not  an  un- 
fashionable girl  be  silly  1  Do  we  monopolize  all 
the  faults  of  the  sex  ]  I  suppose  I  'm  a  fash- 
ionable girl  myself,"  she  laughingly  admitted, 
"so  I  speak  with  feeling.  But  why  do  people 
talk  so]" 

"  Perhaps  because  they  have  some  reason.  Per- 
haps because  it  is  easier  to  write  a  clever  and  witty 
paper,  when  one  says  ill-natured  things.  But,  Miss 
Doane,  do  you  believe  that  many  of  your  young 
lady  friends  would  have  done  what  you  have  done 
down  here  in  Edgecomb  this  summer  ]  You  have 
a  decided  advantage  in  the  argument,  if  I  wished 
to  take  the  opposite  side.  When  a  man  knows 
that  a  young  lady  can  walk  her  five  miles  easily, 
in  all  sorts  "of  weather,  with  no  apparent  ill  effect, 
he  rapidly  loses  any  foolish  ideas  he  may  have 
formed  as  to  the  universal  delicacy  of  the  sex  ;  and 
his  past  theories  with  regard  to  the  .inefficient,  su- 
perficial ways  of  the  modem  'girl'  must  vanish 
when  he  sees  a  person  so  busy  and  helpful  and 
practical  as  you  have  been.  Are  you  sure  you 
are  not  the  Frau  Bertha,  the  'gentle  white  lady 
who  steals  softly  to  neglected  cradles,  and  rocks 
them  "2  My  only  refuge,  you  see,  is  to  pronounce 
you  an  honorable  exception.  The  froth  exists,  but 
you  are  not  as  fond  of  it  as  most  girls." 

"  I  am  very  sure  I  am  not  the  Frau  Bertha,  for, 
according  to  the  legend,  she  had  an  immensely 
large  foot  and  a  long  iron  nose,"  said  Leigh,  rogu- 
ishly ;  "  and  I  do  like  froth.  And,  Mr.  Ogdeu,"  she 


190  ONE  SUMMER. 

went  on  with  a  vivid  blush,  "my  friends  would 
have  done  fewer  foolish  things  than  I,  and  the 
few  things  I  may  have  done  which  are  not  foolish 
they  would  have  done  better." 

"  You  do  not  seem  fashionable  at  all,  now," 
Philip  said  soberly. 

"  I  do  not  take  that  as  a  compliment,"  laughed 
Leigh.  "  I  am  considered  quite  a  fashionable  person 
at  home,  I  assure  you.  0  Mr.  Ogden,"  she  went 
on  earnestly,  "  there  is  a  great  deal  of  injustice  in 
it,  really.  People,  sensible  people  too,  do  get  so 
narrow  in  their  way  of  looking  at  us.  At  a  party, 
for  instance,  we  ai-e  not  expected  to  mention  wheth- 
er we  made  our  dresses  or  not,  or  what  good  deeds 
we  have  performed  during  the  day,  nor  to  enumer- 
ate our  several  useful  accomplishments,  like  the 
chorus  of  servants  at  the  Richmond  Fair  in  '  Mar- 
tha.'  We  do  not  have  the  appearance  of  toiling 
and  spinning,  I  admit,  but  that  adds  to  the  general 
effect.  We  -look  as  finely  as  possible,  —  I  always 
do,  I  assure  you,  —  but,  after  all,  we  are  not  as  we 
figure  in  the  essays." 

"  You  are  eloquent,  Miss  Doane." 

"  No,  I  am  not  eloquent.  But  I  never  in  any 
city  met  with  the  girls  I  find  in  the  magazines  and 
in  some  books.  Sometimes,  of  course,  I  meet  a 
young  lady  who  seems  stupid  and  shallow,  but  I 
cannot  see  that  she  is  to  blame  if  the  Lord  en- 
dowed her  with  less  than  the  usual  amount  of 
common-sense.  If  she  were  a  chambermaid,  it 
would  be  the  same.  The  fault  lies  deeper  than  in 
wearing  pretty  dresses.  Mrs.  Browning  speaks  of 
'"Vacuity  trimmed  with  lace';  but  vacuity  is  va- 


ONE  SUMMER.  191 

cuity,  whether  trimmed  with  lace  or  not.  If  a 
girl  has  little  that  is  admirable  or  lovable  in 
her  nature,  it  would  n't  remedy  the  difficulty  if 
she  should  wear  cloth  of  frieze  instead  of  cloth  of 
gold.  Now  our  set  of  girls  at  home,  —  would  you 
really  like  to  have  me  tell  you  1 "  she  asked  with 
a  pretty  hesitation. 

"  Indeed  I  would,"  Philip  said  heartily.  "  No 
young  lady  ever  talked  to  me  as  you  are  talking. 
It  is  a  very  great  pleasure  to  hear  you." 

Leigh  went  on  rapidly.  "  We  are  not  very  pro- 
found, of  course  ;  we  are  not  particularly  inter- 
ested in  protoplasm;  and  when  we  come  to  Herbert 
Spencer  in  our  reading,  we  skip  him,  because  we 
think  him  appalling,  but  we  study  more  or  less  all 
of  the  time,  and  '  do '  a  little  French  and  German 
quite  constantly,  and  we  have  our  music,  —  most  of 
us  do,  —  and  we  read  enough  to  have  a  faint  idea 
of  what  is  going  on  in  the  world.  Then,  there  are 
very  few  girls  who  have  no  home  duties.  Some  of 
my  friends  always  make  their  own  dresses  ;  I  never 
do,  I  do  not  like  to  sew."  And  she  looked  at  Philip 
as  if  she  expected  to  hear  an  exclamation  of  horror. 
"  Are  you  shocked  ]  " 

"  Not  in  the  least.  Your  confession  is  quite  a 
relief  to  me.  I  always  wondered  how  women  could 
possibly  endure  so  much  monotonous  stitching. 
And  what  else  do  you  do  ? " 

"  0,  little  things ;  yet  each  day  seems  full.  We 
are  always  busy.  1  do  not  think  we  ever  feel 
that  we  are  frittering  away  our  time,  or  that  we 
are  useless  dolls,  as  we  are  popularly  supposed 
to  be.  If  we  all  went  as  missionaries  to  the  Fiji 


192  OXE  SUMMER. 

Islands,  it  would  be  more  to  tell  of;  but  there  are 
two  sides  to  every  question,  and  Bessie  would 
think  I  was  a  heathen  if  I  should  leave  her.  I 
really  do  not  know  the  '  fashionable-girl '  type  at 
all,  Mr.  Ogden,  except  in  isolated  cases,"  she  said 
quite  earnestly ;  "  but  I  know  very  many  sweet, 
bright  girls,  who  do  not  pretend  to  be  wise  or  re- 
markable in  any  way,  but  who  do  not  dye  their 
hair,  nor  lace,  nor  pinch  their  feet,  nor  paint,  and 
who  are  just  as  true-hearted  and  womanly  as  if 
they  did  not  dance  the  German,  and  did  not  like 
to  go  to  the  opera,  and  had  not  wealthy  papas. 
Then  we  —  we  fashionable  butterflies,  I  mean — are 
not  so  feeble  as  we  are  represented.  Do  not  girls 
row  and  walk  miles  and  miles,  and  get  brown  and 
hardy  and  healthy  at  hundreds  of  places  on  the 
coast  every  summer1?  Where  are  people's  eyes? 
Mr.  Ogden,  it  is  impossible  to  tell  anything  about 
us,''  she  added,  smiling  brightly  at  him.  "«A  plain 
woman  is  often  vainer  than  a  pretty  one ;  and  the 
girl  who  has  the  most  languid  and  fashionable 
effect  iu  a  whole  roomful  of  girls  may  have 
sewed  every  stitch  in  her  elaborately  made  gown, 
and  be  a  very  efficient  housekeeper,  with  a  special 
talent  for  cooking.  And  the  girl  with  the  ugly 
dress  is  not  necessarily  the  sweetest  tempered. 
We  are  very  uncertain,  but  it  is  not  fair  to  con- 
demn us  unheard.  There  are  really  remote  pos- 
sibilities of  good  in  us  all,"  she  said  with  comi- 
cal gravity,  "if  we  do  not  like  the  idea  of  wearing 
a  uniform  of  gray  flannel,  a  straight  jacket,  and  a 
short  plain  skirt,"  she  rather  scornfully  explained 
to  Philip,  "  such  as  is  urged  strongly  upon  us  by  the 


ONE  SUMMER.  193 

reformers,  you  know.  I  cannot  feel  that  I  would 
be  a  better  woman  if  I  should  wear  that  costume, 
or  anything  else  ugly  and  unbecoming,  —  green, 
for  instance,  which  makes  me  look  like  a  fright." 

"  How  intrepid  you  are,  Miss  Doane  !  This  is  a 
new  development.  I  imagined  that  ladies  never 
would  admit  that  they  were  fond  of  dress." 

"  I  like  it  hugely,"  Leigh  said  with  emphasis. 
"  I  care  for  a  beautiful  color  and  a  graceful  outline 
in  dress  as  in  anything  else,  and  I  like  everything 
that  is  pretty  and  fresh  and  dainty.  How  can  I 
help  it  1  It  is  as  instinctive 

'  As  for  grass  to  be  green  or  skies  to  be  blue ; 
'T  is  the  natural  way  of  living.' 

But  I  may  not  always.  When  I  am  forty-five,  and 
have  lost  mv  friends  and  health  and  enthusiasm, 
and  the  world  looks  different,  I  may  grow  wise,  — 
or  morbid,  I  don't  know  which,  —  and  take  to  writ- 
ing essays,  and  denouncing  pretty  things,  and  ad- 
vocating dull  drab  for  universal  wear,  with  never 
a  gleam  of  rose-color.  I  may  even  think  it  a 
crime  to  wear  a  locket,  and  a  sleeve  slightly  open 
at  the  wrist  an  evidence  of  total  depravity." 

"  You  will  never  regard  lockets  and  open  sleeves 
in  that  light  probably,  Miss  Doane,  until  you  have 
an  ugly  arm  and  no  locket." 

"  You  are  laughing  at  me.  Perhaps  I  seem 
absurd  to  talk  so." 

"  Certainly  you  do  not.  Yoxi  are  quite  right,  I 
think.  And,  right  or  wrong,  you  ought  to  have 
the  privilege  of  expressing  the  feelings  of  your 
order." 


194  OXE  SUMMER. 

11  And  that  is  the  trouble,"  said  Leigh,  quickly. 
"  Our  order,  as  you  call  it,  never  does  express 
itself.  It  is  the  target  at  which  everybody  shoots. 
When  anything  new  and  especially  savage  appears, 
\ve  girls  at  home  hold  indignation  meetings.  We 
have  sometimes  been  strongly  tempted  to  issue  a 
'  Round  Robin.'  Is  not  that  what  it  is  called 
when  ignorant  people  feel  that  they  must  protest 
against  injustice,  and  are  not  wise  enough  to  do  it 
in  any  magnificent  and  striking  way1?"  she  asked 
laughingly.  "  I  really  do  not  think  that  we  are 
unreasonable.  We  read  with  respect  and  interest 
whatever  physicians  choose  to  write  about  us. 
They  speak  what  they  do  know  and  testify  what 
they  have  seen,  and  for  our  good.  But  why 
should  we  be  publicly  denounced  by  our  own  sex  ? 
Why  should  the  purity  of  our  motives  be  assailed, 
and  ideas  of  which  we  never  dreamed  imputed  to 
us  on  account  of  a  ruffle,  more  or  less,  which  to 
us  seems  a  non-essential  1  We  fashionable  girls 
think  that  it  is  not  kind  or  womanly  to  bring 
railing  accusations  against  all  persons  who  do  not 
choose  to  wear  scant  skirts,  and  whose  opinions 
happen  to  differ  from  our  own,  because  we  believe 
it  is  very  difficult  to  understand  one  another  in 
this  world,  where  natures  vary  so  much,  and  lives, 
and  modes  of  early  training.  WTe  would  rather 
keep  our  hearts  warm  and  charitable  than  to  be 
able  to  write  the  most  trenchant  anathemas 
against  other  women.  But  in  all  human  probabil- 
ity we  shall  continue  to  be  abused,  and  also  to 
wear  our  pretty,  fluttering,  frivolous  ribbons  to 
the  end  of  time.  And  did  vou  ever,  ever  in  all 


ONE  SUMMER.  195 

your  life,  listen  to  a  lecture  so  early  in  the  morn- 
in'g  ]  See  that  dear  little  squirrel  !  Is  n't  that 
bird-note  almost  too  lovely  1  That  one  that 
sounds  so  clearly  above  the  rest,  I  mean.  0  Mr. 
Ogden,  would  you  be  so  kind  as  to  get  me  a  few 
of  those  ferns  1  They  look  so  cool  and  fresh,  and 
Bessie  would  like  to  see  them  at  breakfast.  What 
a  lovely,  lovely  world  it  is,  now  that  tny  Gem  is 
better !  " 

As  he  stood  on  the  edge  of  the  wood,  carefully 
selecting  the  prettiest  ferns,  she  said,  — 

"  You  must  not  notice  how  many  foolish  things 
I  say  this  morning,  Mr.  Ogden.  I  am  not  quite 
responsible,  you  know.  I  imagine  I  am  in  a  wild 
state  of  delirium,  and  it  is  of  small  consequence 
to  me  what  I  say,  provided  I  can  talk.  Fortu-* 
nately  for  you,  I  shall  soon  have  my  family  to 
afflict." 

Philip  did  not  tell  her  that  if  only  he  might 
listen  to  the  varying  tones  of  her  voice  it  was 
of  small  consequence  to  him  also  what  she  said, 
nor  that  he  insanely  wished  that  there  were  no 
family  waiting  to  receive  her,  but  that  they  might 
go  on  as  they  were  forever,  riding  slowly  through 
the  woods,  with  the  freshness  of  the  early  morn- 
ing cooling  their  faces,  the  rosy  clouds  and  golden 
light  of  the  sunrise  before  them,  the  joyous  birds 
singing  in  the  branches  over  their  heads,  and  the 
sweet  woody  scents  all  around.  Nor  did  he  ex- 
press any  of  the  other  equally  extravagant  fancies 
that  filled  his  brain.  It  was  not  yet  time,  not  yet, 
he  constantly  told  himself,  to  risk  the  one  thing 
in  the  world  most  precious  in  his  sight. 


196  ONE  SUMMER. 

With  the  quiet  manner  she  knew  so  well,  he 
said,  passing  her  a  great  bunch  of  feathery  ferns, 
and  getting  in  the  wagon,  — 

"  If  I  can  only  succeed  in  taking  you  safely  to 
your  sister,  I  shall  congratulate  myself.  You  have 
such  a  dazzling,  unearthly  effect  this  morning,  I 
have  trembled  all  the  way  along  lest  you  should 
vanish  like  a  dryad  into  the  heai't  of  an  oak ;  and 
behind  there,  as  we  passed  the  spring,  I  held  my 
breath,  fearing  that  you  would  disappear,  nixy-like, 
and  leave  me  all  alone,  gazing  sadly  at  a  bubble. 
I  am  sorry  to  croak,  but  you  show  your  fatigue  in 
a  queer  way,  and  I  fear  you  will  feel  it  more,  later. 
If  you  escape  without  an  illness,  I  shall  be  sur- 
prised, and  very  happy,"  he  added  involuntarily.  A 
pretty  pleased  light  shone  in  Leigh's  eyes,  but  she 
said  quite  carelessly,  — - 

"  0,  I  'm  too  contrary  to  be  ill,  because  you 
and  Tom  expect  it.  I  am  excited,  I  know,  and  I 
cannot  keep  still.  I  am  restless  away  from  Gem. 
I  am  sure  I  should  be  better  with  him." 

Philip  shook  his  head  doubtingly. 

"  But  as  he  really  does  not  need  me,  of  course 
I  shall  go  to  Bessie  for  to-day." 

"  And  go  to  sleep  too,  I  hope." 

"  Indeed,  no.  I  shall  drink  ever  so  many  cups 
of  coffee,  in  the  first  place.  It  is  so  fortunate  you 
will  not  see  me.  You  would  be  horrified." 

"  But  I  shall  certainly  stay  to  breakfast,"  Philip 
calmly  announced,  "  if  Mrs.  Otis  honors  me  with 
an  invitation." 

"  Very  well ;  at  your  peril,  then.  I  've  given  you 
fair  warning.  And,  after  the  coffee,  we  shall  go 


ONE  SUMMER.  197 

up  to  my  sister's  room,  and  Bessie  and  T  will  talk 
all  day  long,  and  discuss  the  details  of  the  six 
weeks  we  have  spent  without  each  other,  and  Tom 
will  be  ridiculous,  and  I,  to  be  honest,  will  be  su- 
perhumanly  silly.  I  always  arn  after  I  have  taken 
care  of  a  sick  person  and  lost  a  great  deal  of  sleep. 
I  laugh  immoderately  at  everything  for  a  day  or 
two.  Some  people  have  headaches.  I  presume 
my  silliness  answers  the  same  purpose." 

Philip  was  in  that  ineffable  state  in  which 
Leigh's  silliness  would  seem  more  charming  than 
the  combined  wisdom  of  the  rest  of  the  world  ;  but 
he  gave  no  sign,  only  said,  as  they  stopped  at  Miss 
Phipps's  gate,  — 

"  May  I  come  down  to-night,  report  Gem's  case, 
and  see  how  you  are  ]  " 

"  From  curiosity  to  observe  the  condition  I 
shall  be  in,  after  twelve  hours  of  idiotic  laugh- 
ter 1 " 

"  Perhaps ;  but  may  I  come  1 " 

"Certainly;  I  shall  depend  upon  hearing  from 
Gem,  and  Tom  will  be  very  glad  to  see  you," 
Leigh  said  sedately.  "  Actually,  there  's  the  dear 
boy  up  at  this  hour ! "  she  exclaimed,  as  Tom 
rushed  out  of  the  house  and  down  to  the  gate. 

"  How  are  you,  Ogden  ]  Leigh,  what 's  the  mat- 
ter with  you  1  Why  do  you  '  twinkle,  twinkle  '  1 
I  'm  afraid  of  you." 

"  So  am  I,  Tom.  Is  she  not  supernaturally  brill- 
iant 1 " 

"  I  think  I  must  resemble  a  calcium-light," 
Leigh  said,  laughing.  "  But,  Tom,  Tom,  why  do 
you  not  inquire  about  Gem  ? " 


198  ONE  SUMMER. 

"  Because,  Leigh,  Leigh,  I  know  about  Gem," 
returned  Tom,  mockingly.  "  Why  do  you  come 
home  at  this  hour,  with  your  inward  joy  dancing 
in  your  eyes,  and  burning  in  your  cheeks,  and  illu- 
minating the  whole  road  like  a  phosphorescent 
glare  in  a  bog,  if  Gem  is  not  better  1 " 

"  Should  you  consider  '  phosphorescent  glare  '  a 
compliment  1 "  inquired  Leigh,  gravely.  "  Do  you 
suppose  he  is  trying  to  say  that  I  am  a  '  sunshine 
in  a  shady  place '  ]  It  's  only  Tom,  you  know. 
He 's  a  little  addicted  to  using  large  words  which 
he  does  not  understand,  but  he  means  well." 

"  I  think  I  would  consider  it  said  in  a  Pickwick- 
ian sense,  Miss  Doane.  Tom,  how  do  you  happen 
to  be  awake  1  Five  o'clock  was  not  of  old,  me- 
thinks,  your  hour  of  rising  1 " 

"  My  wife's  evil  conscience  roused  her,  although 
she  says  that  it  was  anxiety  about  Leigh,  and  the 
consciousness  of  being  in  a  strange  place ;  and  she 
had  no  mercy,  but  cruelly  sacrificed  my  morning 
nap  to  her  selfishness.  Ogden,  you  '11  take  break- 
fast with  us,  of  course  1 " 

"  My  sister  will  be  extremely  happy  to  have 
you,"  said  Leigh,  cordially. 

"  I  shall  be  glad  to  stay,  on  every  account,"  re- 
plied Philip,  "  but  particularly  because  Miss  Doane 
lias  promised  me  the  pleasure  of  seeing  her  get 
intoxicated  on  coffee." 

"  If  you  knew  her  as  well  as  I  do,"  said  Tom, 
"  you  'd  grow  hardened  and  indifferent  to  all  her 
wicked  ways."  And  he  smiled  affectionately  at  the 
girl,  who  made  iu  return  a  mocking  little  face  at 
him ;  and,  telling  the  gentlemen  she  would  give 


ONE  SUMMER.  199 

them  an  opportunity  to  abuse  her  at  their  pleas- 
ure, she  ran  up  to  Bessie. 

Rapidly  and  joyously  the  sisters  talked,  and  all 
the  gloom  of  the  day  before  vanished  speedily  in 
the  fresh  fair  morning.  Bessie  eagerly  asked 
question  after  question  about  Gem,  and  Leigh  as 
eagerly  answered. 

"  Go  to  the  ant,  thou  sluggard,  and  be  wise," 
chanted  Tom's  mellow  barytone.  "Come  down, 
you  magpies." 

"  In  a  moment,  dear,"  was  the  response. 
"  Leigh's  hair  !  "  Bessie  whispered  mysteriously,  as 
he  came  up  to  expedite  matters. 

"  And  don't  I  know  abbut  Leigh's  hair  in  every 
possible  state,  and  has  n't  Ogden  seen  it  flying  at 
loose  ends  in  a  very  dishevelled  and  disgraceful 
condition  1  What 's  the  use  of  beautifying  now  1 
Too  late,  my  dear,  too  late  !  The  mischief 's  done." 

"  0,  run  down,  Tom,  do,  please  !  It 's  not  po- 
lite to  leave  Mr  Ogden." 

Tom  went  down. 

Presently  he  shouted,  —  " 

"  Bessie  ! " 

An  animated  conversation  was  going  on  above. 
He  received  no  response. 

"E-liz-a-beth!  " 

This  was  successful.  Bessie  and  Leigh  descended 
the  stairs  together. 

"  Good  morning,  Mr.  Ogden.  I  am  so  pleased 
you  will  stay  with  us,  and  so  grateful  to  you  for 
bringing  my  sister  back,"  said  Bessie  warmly  ;  and, 
extending  her  hand  to  Philip,  took  his  arm,  and 
led  the  way  to  the  breakfast-room. 


200  OXE  SUMMER. 

Tom  and  Leigh  followed,  the  former  wearing  a 
curious  and  amused  expression  as  he  observed  the 
extreme  graciousness  of  his  wife's  greeting.  So 
soon  as  they  were  seated,  forgetful  of,  or  deliber- 
ately disregarding,  his  vow,  he  asked  in  a  soft  and 
scrupulously  polite  voice,  which  Leigh  and  Bessie 
knaw  invariably  meant  mischief, — 

"Is  it  the  custom  in  Edgecomb  for  young 
people  to  take  their  pleasure-drives  at  sunrise  ] 
Charmingly  invigorating  habit,  is  it  not,  Ogden  ? 
Such  freshness  everywhere,  such  joy,  such  a  ro- 
seate hue  over  everything,  is  there  not,  Leigh  ] 
Why,  Bessie,"  he  asked,  looking  around  with  would- 
be-innocent  eyes,  "  what  are  you  nudging  me  with 
your  foot  under  the  table  for  1  Does  anybody 
know  what  I've  done]  Have  I  said  anything1?" 

"  You  never  saw  a  sunrise  before,  I  imagine, 
Tom.  It  seems  to  have  had  a  singularly  bad-  effect 
upon  }rou.  I  wouldn't  try  it  again,"  Philip  said 
carelessly. 

"Leigh  devoted  herself  to  her  coffee ;  and  Tom, 
having  received  a  volley  of  warning,  beseeching, 
threatening  glances  from  his  wife,  postponed  his 
attack  until  a  more  favorable  season  ;  and  soon 
everybody  began  to  discuss  Gem  with  enthusiasm. 

When  this  small  skeleton,  wickedly  summoned 
by  Tom,  had  been  thrust  out  of  sight,  the  early 
breakfast  was  a  merry  occasion  to  each  of  the  four. 
The  tall  ferns  nodded  gracefully  in  the  centre  of 
the  table.  Never  was  coffee  so  strong  and  fra- 
grant. Never  did  rolls  wear  so  inviting  a  brown. 
Never  were  berries  so  ripe  and  juicy.  Phipps's 
features  were  observed  more  than  once  to  relax 
their  rigidity. 


ONE  SUMMER.  201 

It  was  already  whispered  that  Tom  was  evi- 
dently her  favorite  among  her  guests,  and  many  a 
well-turned  compliment  did  that  wily  youth  ex- 
press whenever  she  was  within  hearing. 

"  How  can  you  talk  about  feminine  arts,  you 
base  deceiver  1 "  said  Leigh. 

"  Bread  is  the  staff  of  life,  my  child,  and  Phipps 
makes  my  bread.  Uncommonly  good  bread  it  is 
too.  Why,  then,  should  I  not  strive  to  strengthen 
the  bond  which  already  exists  between  her  soul 
and  mine  ]  Besides,  I  admire  her  immensely,"  he 
added  with  irresistible  solemnity. 

And  Miss  Phipps,  coming  into  the  room  at  that 
moment,  with  hot  rolls,  little  dreamed  what  was 
the  cause  of  the  extreme  jollity  in.  which  these 
curious  young  persons  were  indulging. 

Her  inward  comment  was,  "  Never  see  sech 
goin's-on  sence  I  was  born  into  this  world,  never  ! 
To  say  nothin'  o'  them  brakes  stuck  up  kinder  pert- 
like  amongst  the  victuals  !  " 


202  bX£  SUMMER. 


CHAPTER    XVI. 


'  He  looked  at  her,  as  a  lover  can  ; 
She  looked  at  him,  as  one  who  awakes,  — 
The  past  was  a  sleep,  and  her  life  began. " 
BROWSING. 

OME,  my  little  dears  !  We  cannot  stay 
here  star-gazing  forever.  That  fragile 
flower  is  drooping,"  said  Tom,  pointing 
to  Leigh.  Upon  a  pile  of  planks,  lying 
conveniently  upon  the  old  pier,  which  jutted  out 
from  the  middle  of  the  bridge,  Leigh  sat  at  Bes- 
sie's feet,  leaning  her  head  languidly  against  her 
sister's  knee.  Philip  thought  how  pale  and  sweet 
both  faces  looked  in  the  half-light,  and  Tom  paced 
up  and  down  before  the  group  with  his  cigar. 
The  day  which  had  begun  for  Leigh  with  the  joy- 
ous sunrise  ride,  and  which  she  and  Bessie  had 
passed  lazily  under  the  trees  on  the  lawn,  or  cozily 
in  the  deep  window-seats,  was  ending  in  quiet 
happiness  down  on  the  old  bridge  in  the  starlight. 
Edgecomb  and  the  line  of  the  Romney  hills  lay 
in  shadow,  the  water  glistened  before  their  eyes, 
a  little  new  moon  shone  faintly  in  the  western 
sky,  the  strong  salt  air  blew  refreshingly  towards 
them. 

"  Come,  children  !  "  repeated  Tom.  "  Leigh,  are 
you  going  to  condescend  to  sleep  to-night,  or  shall 
you  sit  bolt  upright,  with  your  eyes  propped  open  1 
No  one  knows,  Philip,  how  1  've  labored  to-day  to 


ONE  SUMMER.  203 

make  that  obstinate  girl  close  her  lovely  eyelids ; 
but  my  sweetest  lullaby  failed  to  move  her." 

"  Mr.  Ogden,  I  wish  you  might  have  heard  what 
Tom  calls  his  lullaby,"  said  Bessie.  "  It  was  a 
series  of  direct  questions  which  lasted  from  morn- 
ing until  you  came  to  us,  just  in  season,  I  think, 
to  save  Leigh's  tottering  reason." 

"  And  every  question,"  put  in  Leigh  patheti- 
cally, "  related  to  me,  —  my  words,  my  ways,  my 
personal  appearance.  However  interesting  one 
may  be  to  one's  self,  there  is  such  a  thing  as  hold- 
ing a  mirror  too  long  before  one's  face." 

Tom  chuckled  as  they  discoursed  iipon  his  mis- 
deeds. It  was  all  quite  true.  His  harrowing  conduct 
that  day  would  have  effectually  mm-dered  sleep  in 
the  drowsiest  mortal.  He  had  received  a  merited' 
reproof  from  Bessie  for  having  dared  to  perjure 
himself  so  shamelessly  at  breakfast,  and  had  been 
peremptorily  forbidden  to  again  approach  the  deli- 
cate ground  upon  which,  according  to  her,  Leigh 
and  Philip  were  standing.  Debarred  thus  from 
his  natural  prey,  he  was  forced  to  solace  himself 
with  such  small  game  as  came  in  his  path,  and  he 
questioned  Leigh  remorselessly  as  to  why  her 
"  cheek's  pale  opal  glowed  with  a  red  and  restless 
spark,"  and  why  were  her  eyes  so  big  and  yellow, 
and  would  she  minutely  describe  her  symptoms, 
and  why  did  she  hop  about  so  strangely,  and  why 
did  she  do  a  dozen  different  things  in  as  many 
minutes,  and  so  on  ad  infinitum. 

"  Don't  you  believe  their  malicious  slanders, 
Ogden.  Imagine  a  man  of  genius,  like  me,  mewed 
up  in  a  country  town  with  these  two  chattering 


204  ONE  SUMMER. 

girls.  I  was  forced,  in  self-defence,  to  make  a 
study  of  Miss  Doane.  Dull  ignorance  cannot,  of 
course,  sympathize  with  the  investigations  of  the 
scientific  mind,"  remarked  Tom,  with  a  graceful 
wave  of  his  hand,  and  throwing  his  cigar  into  the 
water.  "  Leigh's  case  is  one  of  peculiar  interest. 
I  shall  instantly  resume  my  subtle  analysis,  — you 
understand,  young  women  !  — -  if  I  cannot  imme- 
diately prevail  upon  you  to  abandon  that  very 
picturesque  attitude  and  those  boards." 

At  this  threat  thev  rose  reluctantly,  and  stood 
for  a  moment  looking  off  over  the  water. 

"  It 's  a  pity  to  go,"  said  Bessie  with  a  sigh. 
"  It  is  so  pretty,  and  it  will  never  look  the  same 
again." 

"  It  is  likely  to  look  better  before  it  looks  worse," 
said  Tom,  in  a  hearty  and  unsentimental  manner. 

"  Which  is  a  good,  comfortable  theory,  Tom,  but 
it  does  not  always  work  well,"  added  Philip. 

"  '  Nothing  can  be  as  it  has  been  before. 
Better  so  call  it,  only  not  the  same,'  " 

quoted  Leigh  softly.  And  they  turned  away  and 
walked  slowly  along  the  bridge  towards  home. 
Leigh  and  Philip  fell  a  little  behind.  They  talked 
together  quietly,  as  old  friends,  rejoiced  in  Gem's 
safety,  planned  pleasant  surprises  for  his  conva- 
lescence. They  discussed  the  time  of  the  proba- 
ble appearance  of  the  Idle  wild. 

"  I  hope  you  will  have  the  happiest  trip  imagin- 
able," said  Philip,  "and  get  thoroughly  rested. 
With  Tom  and  Blake  you  can't  fail  to  be  very 

jolly." 


ONE  SUMMER.  205 

Why  did  he  not  say  "we,"  Leigh  asked  herself. 
Was  he  not  going  too  1  The  question  almost  passed 
her  lips,  but  something  withheld  it.  Bessie  and 
Tom  were  leaning  over  the  railing  of  the  bridge,  a 
short  distance  from  them.  They  too  stopped,  and 
stood  in  silence  looking  at  the  familiar  outlines. 
There  lay  the  fort.  Each  remembered  that  gray 
morning,  ages  ago,  it  seemed  now,  when  they  had 
hated  each  other  so  cordially.  Far  below,  over 
the  glistening  water,  rose  Birch  Point.  How  pretty 
and  spirited  she  had  looked  that  day,  Philip 
thought.  Leigh  remembered  that  she  had  said  to 
herself, 

"  It  was  the  boatman  Ronsalee, 
And  he  sailed  through  the  mists  so  white," 

as  Philip  pulled  into  the  cove  so  easily  that  day. 
How  lovely  it  all  was,  with  the  western  light 
shining  on  the  water  and  bringing  out  so  strongly 
the  different  shades  of  green  in  the  woods  on  the 
opposite  shore-!  And  the  swift  wherry,  darting  in 
suddenly,  had  not  injured  the  picturesque  effect, 
nor  had  the  figure  in  the  boat  been  deficient  in 
manly  grace  and  strength,  nor  had  the  cordial, 
pleasant  voice  that  had  responded  to  Gem's 
summons  jarred  upon  her.  Had  she  liked  him  a 
little  even  then,  this  friend  whose  presence  was  so 
restful  now  that  the  summer  was  almost  gone  1 
And  he  was  not  going  with  them  in  the  yacht? 
Perhaps  they  might  not  see  him  when  they  re- 
turned. What  did  he  really  mean,  she  wondered. 
Leigh  felt  troubled,  confused,  but  of  one  thing 
she  was  almost  sure,  that  now,  as  they  stood 


206  OXE  SUMMER. 

quietly  in  the  starlight,  -was  the  time,  the  very 
last  time  she  might  ever  have,  possibly,  to  thank 
him  for  all  that  he  had  done,  and  to  speak  with 
perfect  frankness  of  their  first  acquaintance.  Still 
she  hesitated.  She  had  been  silent  so  long,  it  was 
difficult  to  speak  now.  Yet  why  not]  ^Vhy  wait 
a  moment  longer]  There  were  Bessie  and  Tom. 
She  had  only  deferred  speaking  until  they  should 
be  here.  Now  was  the  opportunity.  "  To-mor- 
row, who  can  tell  {"  The  Idlewild  might  come 
in,  and  all  would  be  excitement  and  hurry  and 
confusion,  and  she  might  go  away  with  never  an 
honest  word  of  apology,  and  leave  Mr.  Ogden 
to  think  she  was  ungenerous,  ungrateful.  She 
glanced  up  at  him.  His  face  was  dark  and 
thoughtful,  as  he  stood  erect,  looking  straight  be- 
yond him.  How  very,  very  hard  it  was  for  her  to 
begin  !  She  leaned  over  the  railing,  and  tried  to 
see  a  fish  which  had  just  leaped  and  stirred  the 
water. 

"Miss  Leigh,  shall  we  not  go  on1?"  said  Philip. 
"  If  you  were  in  your  usual  condition,  I  would 
beg  you  to  stay  ;  but  I  don't  like  to  keep  you  out 
this  evening,  even  with  my  man's  selfishness,  as 
you  call  it." 

"You  do  not  keep  me,"  said  Leigh.  His  voice 
had  given  her  courage.  "  I  wrish  to  stay,  for  I 
have  something  to  say  to  you,  and  I  may  not  see 
much  of  you  after  this."  Philip  started,  and 
watched  her  closely.  "  I  wish  to  tell  you,"  she 
went  on  simply,  but  without  looking  up  at  him, 
"  that  I  am  very  sorry  I  was  so  rude  and  foolish, 
and  received  you  in  such  an  inexcusable  TV  ay  at 


ONE  SUMMER.  207 

the  fort.  I  thought,  then,  I  had  some  reason.  I 
think,  now,  I  had  none,"  she  continued  rapidly,  as 
Philip  was  about  to  speak.  "Please  let  me  finish. 
I  only  want  you  to  know  how  good  you  've  been 
to  me,  and  with  what  kindness  and  courtesy  and 
generosity  you  've  repaid  me  for  all  my  rudeness, 
and  I  am  very  sorry  for  everything,  —  everything," 
she  repeated  ;  "  and  if  you  can  forgive  me  — 

"  I  beg  you  will  not  say  another  word,"  said 
Philip,  in  a  low,  hurried  voice,  taking  both  her 
hands  in  his  impetuously,  and  holding  them  in  a 
firm  grasp.  "You  pain  me  by  talking  so.  Why 
should  you  say  '  forgive'  to  me  1  I  have  nothing 
to  forgive,  —  nothing  whatever.  It  is  my  place 
to  beg  for  pardon  at  your  feet,  —  for  pardon  and 
for  more,  for  more,  my  darling  —  Leigh,  do  you 
not  know —  " 

"  Ah,  don't  !  "  said  Leigh,  turning  away,  and 
burying  her  face  in  her  hands.  His  manner,  his 
eager  words,  the  strange  new  depths  in  his  voice, 
were  a  revelation  to  her.  The  tenderness  which 
had  often  sounded  in  his  tones  she  had  accepted 
unconsciously,  or  construed  into  simple  kindness 
to  her  and  Gem.  This  passionate  voice  was  a  dif- 
ferent thing.  She  could  not  misunderstand  its 
meaning,  nor  that  of  the  face  which  was  looking 
directly  into  her  own.  She  was  inexpressibly 
weary  in  mind  and  body.  Her  fatigue  and  excite- 
ment, followed  by  the  long  quiet  evening,  were  at 
last  telling  strongly  upon  her,  and  sending  a 
penetrating  languor  over  her  whole  system. 
Never,  perhaps,  in  her  life,  had  she  been  so  utterly 
unnerved  as  she  was,  even  before  Philip  had 


208  ONE  SUMMER. 

spoken,  and  what  he  had  said  seemed  too  much 
for  her  to  bear.  Not  once  had  she  thought  of  this 
quiet,  watchful  friend  as  a  lover.  She  had  done 
him  a  wrong.  He  had  been  good  to  her.  She 
wished  to  make  reparation,  and  to  thank  him, 
before  their  lives,  thrown  together  so  curiously  for 
a  time,  should  separate  forever.  She  wished  him 
to  say  he  forgave  her,  in  the  old  friendly  way. 
This  new  voice  had  sounded  too  suddenly  in  her 
ears.  She  was  too  tired  to  listen  to  its  throb- 
bing, restless,  seeking  tones.  Instinctively  she  had 
lifted  her  hand  as  if  to  shield  herself  from  a  blow, 
and  shrinking,  troubled,  pleading,  had  said, — 

"  Ah  !  don't,  don't,  please  !  " 

In  an  instant  the  old  quiet  returned  to  Philip's 
manner.  He  had  waited  long,  it  seemed  to  him. 
He  could  wait  longer.  The  sweet  friendliness  of 
her  manner,  as  she  offered  her  frank  apology,  he 
had  not  misunderstood,  or  estimated  for  more 
that  it  was  worth,  yet  it  seemed  that  he  had 
spoken  too  soon.  Would  she  ever  learn  not  to 
dislike  him1?  Suddenly,  as  he  looked  down  upon 
her  half-averted  face,  a  true  appreciation  of  Leigh's 
position  dawned  upon  him,  — 

"  Because  where  reason  even  finds  no  flaw, 
Unerringly  a  lover's  instinct  may/'  - 

and  his  heart  was  filled  with  a  pitying  tenderness. 
"I  am  a  brute  to  give  her  one  more  thought. 
She  is  no  more  fit  to  hear  me  than  a  tired  child. 
It  would  be  ungenerous  to  distress  her  by  saying 
more."  Yet  Philip  found  it  almost  beyond  his 
strength  to  reason  and  wait  when  his  very  life 


ONE  SUMMER.  209 

seemed  trembling  in  the  balance.  He  craved  an 
answer,  even  if  it  were  that  she  cared  not  for  him. 
Her  weariness,  the  pale,  sad  face  from  which  all 
the  sparkle  had  gone,  moved  him  deeply ;  and  a 
wild  impulse  to  take  the  drooping  figure  in  his 
arms,  and  draw  that  weary  head  to  his  heart, 
seized  him.  He  set  his  teeth  together,  turned 
and  looked  away  from  Leigh,  following  with  his 
eye  the  long,  dark  line  of  the  bridge,  steadied 
himself  manfully,  and  in  a  moment  said  in  his  or- 
dinary manner,  — 

"Shall  we  go  on  now,  Miss  Leigh1?  Tom  and 
your  sister  have  just  started,  I  believe."  She  took 
his  proffered  arm,  and  they  resumed  their  walk. 

"  You  are  very  good,"  she  said  gratefully,  when 
they  had  gone  on  some  moments  in  silence.  "  I 
did  not  mean  —  I  did  not  know,"  she  went  on 
brokenly  ;  then,  not  even  making  an  effort  to  com- 
plete her  sentence,  said  simply,  "  I  'm  very  tired." 

"  Yes,  I  know,"  Philip  replied  gently.  "  For- 
give me  for  troubling  you.  We  are  only  Gem's 
two  friends  now.  He  is  not  quite  well  yet,  and  I 
may  still  claim  you  as  my  friend,  for  his  sake, 
may  I  not  1 "  This  light  appeal,  and  the  old  jest- 
ing tone,  poor  tired  Leigh  found  that  she  could 
answer  without  too  much  perturbation. 

"I  think  perhaps  we  are  friends  for  our  own 
sakes,  through  Gem,  of  course,  but  —  "  She  hesi- 
tated ;  her  words  were  still  refractory  ;  they  would 
not  come  at  her  bidding. 

"  Bless  the  boy  ! "  exclaimed  Philip,  emphati- 
cally ;  and  Leigh  looked  up  and  met  his  smile. 
Was  it  a  dream,  then,  this  scene  of  a  few  moments 


210  ONE  SUMMER. 

before?  This  was  not  the  same  man.  It  was 
only  the  old  Philip,  whose  presence  gave  her  rest 
and  relief.  They  said  little  as  they  passed  up  the 
A'illage  street.  Leigh's  brain  was  whirling,  yet  she 
felt  too  fatigued  to  really  think;  and  Philip,  in 
spite  of  the  little  repelling  gesture  with  which  she 
had  received  his  avowal,  —  in  spite  of  her  begging 
him  to  say  no  more,  — could  not  feel  like  a  hope- 
less and  despondent  lover.  The  intuition  of  love 
had  taught  him  why  she  had  repulsed  him.  He 
did  not  think  she  loved  him,  but  she  had  shown 
him  that  she  trusted  him.  She  had  said  that 
they  were  friends.  Perhaps  a  long,  long  patience 
would  accomplish  the  rest.  Such,  as  they  crossed 
the  common,  were  his  thoughts,  which  were  inter- 
rupted bv  Tom's  jovfal  voice  in  advance. 

"  Leigh,  if  you  're  quoting  poetry,  mind  your 
cse-su-ras,"  he  called  out  in  a  pedantic  and  warn- 
ing manner. 

"  Miss  Doane  is  too  tired  to  trouble  herself 
about  trifles,"  retorted  Philip. 

"  And  who  made  him  Leigh's  champion  1 "  mut- 
tered Tom.  "  Things  must  be  advancing  rapidly, 
when  that  ready  tongue  of  hers  yields  its  right  of 
retort." 

"  Did  I  not  tell  you  so  1 "  asked  Bessie  in 
triumph.  "  But,  Tom,"  —  reproachfully,  —  "  how 
could  you  have  said  that  to  Leigh  ]  Do  you  not 
know  you  might  have  intruded  your  caesuras  at  a 
most  interesting  and  critical  moment  1 " 

"  And  have  I  not  received  explicit  instruction 
not  to  appear  as  if  I  imagined  there  could  by  any 
possibility  be  an  interesting  moment  in  the  career 


ONE  SUMMER.  211 

of  those  young  persons  1  In  that  state  of  sublime 
ignorance  which  you  demand  of  me,  what  was 
more  natural  than  my  charming  and  facetious 
remark  1  Hard  as  I  strive  to  please  you,  I  seem 
to  fail  in  every  particular." 

"  Of  course  you  do,  because  you  are  an  incorri- 
gible, teasing  boy,"  she  replied,  giving  a  scornful 
emphasis  to  the  last  word. 

"  May  I  not  turn  round  and  ask  Leigh  if  she 
observes  how  strangely  brilliant  Venus  is  to- 
night 1 "  he  meekly  asked. 

"  Indeed  you  may  not,"  Bessie  replied  severely. 

"  Well,  what  do  you  suppose  they  are  talking 
about  1 "  continued  the  wicked  Tom.  "  They  keep 
me  in  awful  suspense.  Why  do  they  pause  so 
long  upon  the  brink  of  the  Rubicon  1  /  could  help 
them  over.  May  n't  I,  Bessie  1 " 

"  Hush,  Tom  !  "  putting  her  hand  over  his  lips 
as  he  was  about  to  speak.  "  You  'd  be  more  apt 
to  help  them  in  and  drown  them,"  she  whispered, 
as  Leigh  and  Philip  joined  them. 

One  moment  more  Philip  had  alone  with  Leigh 
that  evening.  Bessie  had  disappeared  in  search  of 
wine,  which  she  insisted  Leigh  must  have,  and 
Tom  had  followed,  and  their  two  laughing  voices 
could  be  heard  above  as  they  unpacked  a  hamper. 

"  Miss  Leigh,  forgive  me  if  I  trouble  you,  but  I 
have  so  much  to  say  to  you.  May  I  say  one  little 
word  more  1 " 

"  Of  course  you  may  say  what  you  like,  Y.r. 
Ogden.  I  am  not  entitled  to  so  much  considera- 
tion. I  am  tired,  you  know,  and  stupid,"  she  said, 
putting  her  hand  to  her  head  wearily ;  "  but  I  uin 


212  OXE  SUMMER. 

not  in  extremis.  I  can  listen  when  a  frtend  speaks." 
And  Leigh  smiled  at  him  from  the  window-seat,  as 
he  stood  before  her. 

"  It  is  only  this,"  he  said  hurriedly.  "  Pardon 
me  for  saying  it  now,  but  I  may  not  have  another 
opportunity.  I  made  arrangements  a  few  \veeks 
ago  to  join  a  party  of  friends  who  are  fishing  at 
Mauhegan,  instead  of  going  on  the  Idlewild  trip. 
I  thought  my  presence  would  not  be  agreeable  to 
you.  I  did  not  wonder  at  that,"  he  added,  meet- 
ing Leigh's  regretful,  deprecating  glance.  "  You 
see  I  thought,  even  after  the  amicable  relations  we 
had  assumed  '  for  Gem's  sake,'  some  unlucky  remi- 
niscence would  continually  pop  up  and  disturb 
your  peace,  and  I  concluded  it  would  be  altogether 
better  if  I  should  not  go  with  you." 

"  You  were  extremely  thoughtful,"  said  Leigh, 
quietly,  turning  away,  and,  with  face  pressed  close 
against  the  pane,  peering  out  into  the  darkness. 
t  "  But  now  I  feel  differently.  I  regret  that  I 
have  agread  to  go  to  Manhegan.  I  have  been  due 
there  some  days,  but  could  not,  of  course,  leave 
Gem."  He  paused,  then  went  on,  growing  more 
earnest  and  rapid  every  moment.  "  Lately  I  have 
dared  to  hope  that  my  presence  on  the  yacht 
might  not  drive  away  all  your  pleasure.  Leigh, 
I  have  not  thought  it,  I  have  only  hoped,  and  I 
have  even  dared  to  tell  myself  that  possibly  you 
would  allow  me  to  join  the  party  later  at  some 
place  where  the  yacht  puts  in."  Leigh  listened 
silently,  but  did  not  turn  her  head.  "Do  not 
misunderstand  me.  I  am  asking  nothing  of  you. 
You  pledge  yourself  to  nothing.  It  is  simply 


ONE  SUMMER.  213 

your  permission  to  see  you  again,  —  to  receive 
from  you  a  friend's  welcome,  —  only  that."  And 
his  voice  pleaded  so  earnestly  that  again  he  held 
himself  back,  and  said,  "Forgive  rne,  —  try  to 
forgive  me,  - —  I  am  presuming  again  upon  your 
patience.  You  need  not  answer  a  word  to-night," 
he  said,  as  Leigh  turned  towards  him.  "  I  have 
no  right  to  distress  you.  Yet  how  can  I  be 
wholly  silent  1 "  he  exclaimed  impetuously. 

Leigh  rose  from  the  window-seat,  and  stood  be- 
fore him.  There  may  have  been  a  little  quiver  about 
the  sensitive  mouth,  and  her  clasped  hands  were 
pressed  closely  together,  but  she  spoke  calmly. 

"  Mr.  Ogden,  1  cannot,  of  course,  fail  to  under- 
stand you.  Pardon  me  if  I  was  cowardly  and 
childish  on  the  bridge  just  now.  You  have  a  right 
to  speak  and  be  answered.  You  startled  me  ;  and 
you  give  me  much  to  think  of,  —  far,  far  too  much 
for  me  to  answer  now."  Here  she  faltered  a  little  ; 
then,  regaining  her  composure,  "  Yet  I  would 
like  you  to  know  that  I  think  you  are  very,  very 
good  to  me,  and  such  goodness  as  yours  demands 
in  return  fair,  honest  treatment  at  least."  Look- 
ing earnestly  into  Philip's  eager  face,  she  said, 
"  You  say  I  pledge  myself  to  nothing  by  what  I 
say  now  ]" 

"  Absolutely  nothing." 

"  I  am  glad,"  Leigh  said  simply.  "  I  could  not 
promise  anything.  I  do  not  know." 

"  You  need  not  promise,  and  you  need  not 
know." 

"  Then,  Mr.  Ogden,"  slowly,  and  wiih  grave, 
sweet  dignity,  "  I  would  be  pleased  if  you  were  to 


214  ONE  SUMAL1R. 

go  with  us  on  the  Idlewild  ;  and  if  you  care  to  join 
us  by  and  by,  I  will  give  you  the  friend's  welcome. 
I  think  I  will  not  wait  for  my  sister.  Good  night, 
Mr.  Ogden." 

Reverentially,  as  if  she  were  a  young  princess, 
Philip  lifted  to  his  lips  the  hand  she  extended  to 
him,  and  thus  silently  expressed  his  gratitude. 

Afterwards  he  and  Tom  sat  smoking  together  at 
the  door. 

"  Tom,"  said  Philip  deliberately  between  his 
puffs,  "have  you  anything  to  say  against  me, — 
my  moral  character,  temper,  position,  business 
prospects?" 

Tom  turned  squarely  round,  looked  Philip  in 
the  face,  and  said,  — 

"  Can't  say  that  I  have." 

"  '  Speak  now,  or  forever  after  hold  your  peace.' " 

"  Hm  !  as  far  along  as  that  1  Do  you  want  to 
shake  hands,  Ogden  1 " 

"  Wait,  Tom.  I  don't  wish  to  take  your  hand 
under  false  pretences.  I  am  addressing  you  for- 
mally, now,  as  Miss  Doane's  natural  protector,  and 
announcing  my  intentions  simply.  What  hers  may 
be  is  a  different  matter." 

"My  dear  Philip,  as  Miss  Doane's  guardian,  then, 
I  give  you  my  hearty  approval  and  sympathy  ;  and, 
as  a  keen  observer  of  the  fair  sex,  I  feel  justified 
in  assuring  you  that  there  can  be  no  reasonable 
doubt  of  a  delightful  unanimity  of  sentiment  be- 
tween you."  Philip  smiled,  and  quietly  replied,  — 

"  The  matter  rests  with  Miss  Doane,  Tom.'  It 
is  out  of  my  hands.  I  await  her  decision." 

The  two  young  men  smoked  on  in  silence. 


ONE  SUMMER.  215 

"  Brother  !  embrace  me  !  "  burst  forth  from  the 
irrepressible  Tom. 

"  Excuse  me,"  said  Philip,  laughing.  "  The 
relationship  is  horribly  premature,  and  as  for  the 
demonstration,  I  should  n't  enjoy  it." 

"  Will  you  shake  hands,  then  1 " 

"  With  pleasure."  And  each  took  the  other's 
hand,  with  that  strong,  long  grasp  in  which  men, 
deeming  words  at  such  moments  a  meaningless 
form,  express  hearty  good-will,  affection,  it  may  be. 
Behind  Tom's  jesting  manner  his  honest  soul 
looked  out  and  wished  his  friend  goodspeed  ;  and 
Philip  saw  it,  thanked  him  in  his  heart,  and  went 
off  down  the  road  to  the  cottage  at  a  rapid,  swing- 
ing gait,  with  hopeful,  happy  fancies  thronging  in 
his  mind,  all  created  by  "  the  might  of  one  fair 
face." 


216  ONE  SUMMER. 


CHAPTER    XVII. 


'  To  say  why  girls  act  so  or  so, 
Or  don't,  'ould  be  presumin'. 
Mebby  to  mean  yes  and  say  no 
Comes  nateral  to  women." 

LOWELL. 

'  Heart,  are  ye  great  enough 
For  a  love  that  never  tires  ?  " 

Tnomov. 


WEEK  passed.  Gem  steadily  improved, 
and  each  day  Leigh  sat  with  him,  told 
stories,  sang  to  him,  and  made  the  long 
hours  seem  shorter  to  the  restless,  impa- 
tient child.  Bessie  came,  too ;  and  Gem,  although 
at  first  a  little  shy  with  her,  —  for  his  illness  had 
changed  him  somewhat,  —  soon  grew  to  watch  for 
her  coming  also,  and  to  welcome  "Miss  Leigh's 
Bessie,"  who  was  "  like  Miss  Leigh  an'  yet  she 
war  n't,  an'  talked  like  Miss  Leigh  and  yet  she 
did  n't."  Tom  fussed  and  fumed,  and  declared 
that  he  was  dying  of  neglect,  and  that  he  had 
heard  nothing  but  "  Gem  this  and  Gem  that," 
since  he  came;  yet  evidence  of  his  warm  in- 
terest was  not  wanting  at  the  boy's  bedside.  One 
day  he  brought  out  some  choice  wine,  with  a  stern, 
"  Take  that  to  yon  pampered  fledgling."  And 
curious  wooden  puzzles,  just  light  enough  for  small, 
weak  fingers  to  play  with,  and  not  too  intricate  for 
the  little  brain,  wearied  by  long  illness,  to  solve, 
appeared  mysteriously  in  baskets  of  fruits  and 
flowers  which  Bessie  sent  to  Gem. 


ONE  SUMMER.  217 

Philip  was  much  with  Tom,  and  saw  little  of 
Leigh  during  the  few  days  he  remained  in  Edge- 
comb.  He  had  long  talks  with  Gem  when  Leigh 
was  not  at  the  cottage.  When  she  would  enter 
the  room,  he  would  resign  his  place  near  the  in- 
valid, and,  after  a  friendly  word  or  two,  go  out. 
His  manner  was  as  of  old  during  Gem's  illness. 
They  two  were  Gem's  friends  simply.  He  was 
quietly  waiting,  giving  her  time,  making  no  allu- 
sion to  the  deeper  waters  they  had  entered.  Only 
once,  and  then  just  hefore  his  departure,  he 
said,  — 

"  I  shall  go  to  Manhegan  to-morrow.  I  still 
have  your  permission  to  join  the  Idlewild  par- 
ty ]  "  ' 

"  Yes,  if  you  can  find  tis,"  she  answered  gayly. 
"  From  all  I  can  hear,  I  imagine  we  are  going  to 
be  a  very  erratic  band  of  voyagers,  and  you,  in 
search  of  us,  may  go  flying  by  some  little  harbor 
where  we  are  safely  at  anchor  all  the  time." 

"  I  think  I  shall  be  able  to  find  you  without 
much  difficulty,"  Philip  returned  with  a  smile. 
"The  coast  of  Maine  will  give  us  an  extended  field 
for  a  game  of  hide-and-seek.  You  will  not  escape 
me,  unless  you  do  it  wilfully." 

"  I  promise  to  '  play  fair.'  " 

"  Thank  3*011.  Then  I  shall  certainly  find  you 
somewhere." 

"  '  Somewhere,  somewhen,  somehow,'  as  it  says 
in  •  Water  Babies,'  "  added  Leigh,  laughing.  "De- 
lightfully vague,  is  it  not  ?  Good  by,  then,  Mr. 
Ogden.  I  wish  you  a  charming  time,  and  ever  so 
many  fish  at  Manhegan.  You  must  bring  us 
10 


218  ONE  SUMMER. 

some  stories  from  the  rocky,  wild  old  place.  The 
fishermen  there  ought  to  be  wonderfully  inter- 
esting." 

"  I  '11  try  to  pick  up  something  worth  repeating. 
Every  new  idea  I  gain  is  of  enormous  value  to  me, 
as  my  mind  only  dwells  upon  events  which  have 
occurred  since  Gem's  illness,"  Philip  said,  with  a 
curious  smile.  And,  though  the  good-by  was 
spoken,  he  still  lingered.  "  My  previous  history 
is  a  blank." 

"  Perhaps  it  would  be  well  for  both  of  us  to 
bury  a  few  weeks  in  oblivion,"  said  Leigh,  de- 
murely. "  I  am  sure  when  I  view  myself  in  certain 
lights,  I  am  not  an  edifying  spectacle.  It  was  all 
very  ridiculous,  was  it  not  ]  But  I  'm  sorry ;  and 
Mr.  Ogden,"  she  went  on,  roguishly,  "  if  it  will 
afford  you  any  pleasure,  you  may  break  my  poor 
little  umbrella  into  a  thousand  pieces,  although 
Tom  did  bring  it  to  me  from  London,  and  my 
affections  still  cling  to  it,  in  spite  of  its  depravity. 
And  you  may  burn  that  foolish  sketch-book,  with 
solemn  and  appropriate  rites,"  she  went  on  mer- 
rily. "  And  can  I  give  you  satisfaction  in  any 
other  way  1 " 

"  You  know  perfectly  well  that  you  can,"  was 
the  low  response. 

Philip  had  not  intended  to  urge  his  suit  as 
he  bade  her  farewell  for  a  few  days.  He  had 
contemplated  a  cool  and  unsentimental  leave-tak- 
ing, as  a  sort  of  sanitary  measure,  which  would 
benefit  him  in  the  end.  He  saw  that  Leigh  was 
not  quite  sure  of  herself,  nor  did  he  wonder  at  all 
that  she  wanted  time  to  think.  He  looked  forward 


ONE  SUMMER.  219 

with  a  firm,  patient  hope  to  the  day  when  he 
should  gain  her  love.  He  felt  in  some  way  assured 
that  that  day  would  surely  come.  If  Leigh  had 
not  had  some  little  regard  —  affection,  it  may  be 
—  for  him,  he  reflected,  with  a  wondering  thank- 
fulness, if  it  would  be  impossible  for  her  to  care 
for  him  as  he  wished  her  to  care,  she  would  have 
known  it  at  once,  and  would  have  told  him  so  in 
frank  womanly  words.  Their  present  intercourse, 
which  outwardly  resembled  the  calm  ease  of  a 
long  friendship,  would  have  been  impossible,  had 
he  been  an  uncertain  aspirant  for  higher  honors. 
Gem  was  still  the  connecting  link,  and  there  were 
all  the  curious  and  familiar  elements  of  life  among 
the  Holbrooks,  which  made  it,  to  a  certain  extent, 
natural  that  they  should  sink  back  into  the  old 
grooves  ;  yet  beneath  this  surface  life  was  the  deep 
undertone.  She  had  given  him  encouragement, 
and  he  was  showing  her  plainly,  that,  so  long  as 
she  needed,  she  might  rely  upon  his  patience  and 
delicate  consideration  for  her  doubts.  He  under- 
stood her  far  better  than  Leigh  imagined.  She 
was  not  a  girl  who  was  in  a  chronic  state  of  lis- 
tening, breathless  expectation  of  a  proposal  of  mar- 
riage from  every  eligible  man  she  met.  He  had 
watched  her  very  closely.  He  had  seen  that  she 
would  greet  him  with  sweet,  pleased  eyes,  when 
he  would  join  her,  after  an  absence  of  some  hours  ; 
yet  he  had  also  seen  that  her  welcome,  while  it 
evinced  trust  and  sympathy,  was  too  frank  to  lie 
very  far  below  the  surface.  He  knew  that  his 
little  attentions,  his  constant  care  of  her,  she  had 
accepted  all  along,  as  she,  with  her  honest,  iuno- 


220  ONE  sumiEE. 

cent  heart,  could  not  have  done,  had  she  not  felt 
a  real  liking  for  him  ;  yet  it  had  been  only  a  liking, 
Philip  saw.  Why  should  it  grow  in  one  moment 
into  a  great  resistless  love  like  his  own.  True 
love  is  by  turns  humble  and  proud.  Philip  was  in 
the  stages  of  humility.  "  Any  sweet,  good  wo- 
man is  too  good  for  the  best  man  that  walks  the 
earth,"  he  said  to  himself.  And  why  should  this 
rare  Leigh,  this  priceless  pearl  of  women,  "  so 
purer  than  the  purest,"  be  his  at  once  for  the  ask- 
ing1? He  could  wait,  for  he  knew  well  its  fail- 
radiance  was  destined  to  shine  into  his  life.  Why, 
then,  with  so  dear  and  blessed  a  hope,  should  he 
not  be  patient  ?  So  he  had  reasoned ;  yet,  as 
Leigh  had  looked  up  at  him,  and  carelessly  asked 
if  there  was  any  other  way  in  which  she  could  give 
him  satisfaction,  involuntarily  he  had  answered 
with  his  whole  soul  in  his  voice,  and  the  tone  and 
word  could  not  be  recalled. 

Leigh  stood  leaning  against  one  of  the  pillars 
which  supported  Miss  Phipps's  "  antique  portico," 
with  the  light  from  the  hall  streaming  out  upon 
her  face. 

The  usual  group  of  four  had  been  chatting  out 
in  the  porch,  but  Bessie  had  judiciously  departed, 
dragging  away  with  her  the  reluctant  Tom,  and 
calmly  announcing  a  palpably  improbable  reason 
for  withdrawing. 

Tom  feelingly  remonstrated,  — 

"  If  you  will  persist  in  being  general  of  this 
army,  Bessie,  I  wish  you  might  become  a  more 
profound  tactician  ;  and  I  must  protest  against 
wife  of  mine  making  such  unblushingly  menda- 


ONE  SUMMER.  221 

cious  assertions.  That  last  was  too  painfully  at- 
tenuated, —  the  very  fibbiest  of  fibs." 

"  Torn,"  Bessie  said,  oracularly,  "Mr.  Ogden  is 
going  away.  Everything  depends  upon  what  is 
done  at  this  moment.  Farewells  are  extremely 
important." 

"  Why  do  you  not  write  a  book  1  '  Love-Making 
Made  Easy '  would  attract  attention,  and  I  never, 
in  all  my  life,  met  anybody  who  knew  quite  so 
much  about  it  as  you  do." 

"  Who  taught  me,  1  'd  like  to  know  !  "  was  the 
pert  and  pointed  rejoinder. 

"  I  'm  sure  I  can't  imagine,"  retorted  Tom,  with 
a  reflective  air.  "  Let  me  think.  Barton,  wasli't 
it,  or  Nettleton,  or  Allen,  or  some  other  one  of 
those  dandy  fellows,  who  were  always  spinning 
about  you  until  I  appeared,"  he  went  on  with  a 
magnificent  flourish,  "  and  they  vanished  like  dew 
before  the  sun.  Yet  what  I  did  in  those  old  and 
halcyon  days,  my  beloved,  I  accomplished  by  my 
own  unaided  genius.  No  one  ever  spread  cotton- 
wool in  my  path  as  you  do  in  Ogden's,"  he  mur- 
mured plaintively.  "  And  Leigh,  too,  —  it  was 
not  ever  thus.  She  was  not  once  so  brittle.  Will 
she  really  break  if  I  touch  her  1 " 

"  Tom,  you  know  you  are  quite  as  much  inter- 
ested as  I  am,  only  you  are  too  ridiculous  to  ac- 
knowledge it." 

"  Interested  ?  Of  course  I  am,  only  I  don't  want 
to  be  harassed  and  hampered,  and  prevented  from 
showing  my  interest  in  my  own  peculiar  and  pleas- 
ing method.  A  pretty  way  to  evince  interest  it 
is  to  rush  off  into  the  dining-room  and  close  two 


222  ONE  SUMMER. 

doors  behind  one,  so  one  cannot  possibly  hear  what 
is  going  on.  I  want  to  hear,  I  tell  you  !  I  want 
to  be  on  the  spot.  Why  do  you  restrain  me,  you 
cruel  woman  1  I  want  to  give  Ogden  an  encour- 
aging pat  on  the  back,  and  charm  Leigh  with  my 
naivete  and  innocent  prattle  !  " 

"  0  Tom,  do  be  quiet  !  "  said  Bessie,  stifling 
with  laughter.  "  You  grow  worse  and  worse.  They 
will  certainly  hear  you." 

"  I  wish  they  would.  It  might  hurry  up  the 
final  tableau.  Sweet  thing  !  "  he  exclaimed,  rolling 
his  eyes.  "  Can't  you  see  it,  Bessie  ?  Ogdeu  and 
Leigh  joining  hands,  just  before  the  foot-lights,  and 
bowing  gracefully  to  the  audience.  I,  at  stage 
right,  doing  the  heavy  walking-gentleman  to  per- 
fection, the  tearful  old  paternal,  the  '  bless  you, 
my  children '  style  of  thing,  you  know,  while  a 
smile  of  righteous  joy  will  play  over  my  mobile 
features,  and 

'How  pleasant  is  Saturday  night, 
When  we  "ve  tried  all  the  week  to  be  good,' 

will  emanate  from  my  whole  presence,  and  —  " 

"  That 's  more  than  enough  about  you,  you  ego- 
tistical, conceited  creature  !  Where  will  I  be,  if 
you  please,  sir  1 " 

"  You  1  You  will  play  watchful,  protecting 
spirit  then,  as  you  do  now,  my  angel.  You  will 
be  '  the  sweet  little  cherub  that  sits  up  aloft,'  at 
the  extreme  top  of  the  stage  left.  You  will 
wear  spangled  tarlatan,  a  gilt-paper  crown,  and  a 
delicious  smirk ;  and  your  exquisite  arms,  to  which 
will  be  attached  gorgeous  pink  calico  wings,  will 


ONE  SUMMER.  223 

dreamily  wave,  and  fling  down  benisous  upon  the 
happy  pair,  while  the  supernumerary  will  burn 
beautiful  yellow  and  green  light  at  the  wings,  and 
the  badly  tuned  violins  will  wail,  and  the  curtain 
will  fall  amid  tumultuous  applause." 

"  Tom,  I  do  not  think  I  can  tolerate  such  a 
scene  as  this  even  in  joke,  and  from  you.  Who 
ever  heard  of  an  angel  in  pink  1 " 

"And  should  not  the  angel  of  love  appear  in 
rose-color  1 " 

"  And  yellow  and  green  lights  !  Your  descrip- 
tion is  abominable,  and  highly  improper,  too,  being 
strangely  suggestive  of  Black  Crook  transforma- 
tion scenes." 

While  they  talked  thus  after  their  usual  fashion 
in  the  dining-room,  where  Bessie  had  caged  her 
husband,  out  at  the  porch  a  conversation  of  dif- 
ferent import  was  going  on. 

Philip  had  spoken  again. 

"  You  know  perfectly  well  that  you  can,"  he 
had  said.  "My  life  is  in  your  hands." 

Leigh's  heart  beat  fast,  and  she  nervously  pulled 
in  pieces  a  honeysuckle-blossom,  sacrificing  the  fra- 
grant, unoffending  flower  in  her  troubled  mood. 

"  Mr.  Ogden,  may  I  speak  very  frankly  to  you  ? 
I  think  there  should  be  no  disguise  between  us, 
whatever  may  come,  and  I  know  you  will  not  mis- 
understand me  ;  and  you  will  pardon  me  if  what  I 
am  about  to  say  seems  strange  1 " 

"  Do  not  hesitate  to  say  anything  you  wish.  I 
cannot  misunderstand." 

"  In  all  these  days  in  which  you  have  been  so 
good,  and  have  given  me  time  to  think,  it  seems  to 


224  ONE  SUMMER. 

me  I  ought  to  feel  sure  of  myself,  and  I  am  not, 
Mr.  Ogden.  I  am  so  sorry,  but  I  feel  troubled,  full 
of  doubt." 

"  Why  should  you  not  feel  so?  It  is  no  light 
thing,  I  ask  of  you,"  Philip  said  gently.  Then, 
after  a  moment,  "  Could  you  tell  me  what  espe- 
cially makes  you  troubled  ] " 

"  I  would  like  to  tell  you  if  I  can.  I  wish  to 
show  you  what  is  in  my  heart.  It  seems  to  me 
the  only  way,"  she  hesitated.  Again  the  innocent 
honeysuckle-vine  suffered,  as  Leigh's  unconscious 
hands  ruthlessly  showered  leaf  and  flower  upon  the 
steps.  Abruptly  she  began.  "  Mr.  Ogden,  it  is  so 
different  from  my  theories.  All  girls  have  theories, 
you  know.  I  cannot  deny  that  I  care  for  you 
more  than  I  ever  cared  for  any  one  before,"  she 
said  slowly,  and  so  low,  that  Philip  scarcely  heard 
the  words  that  were  so  dear  to  him.  "  Wait,"  she 
went  on,  with  a  little  imperious  gesture,  as  Philip 
eagerly  began  to  speak,  —  "  wait.  I  care  for  you 
more,  but  how  can  I  be  sure  that  I  care  for  you 
enough]  How  can  I?"  And  the  earnestness  of 
her  voice  deepened  as  she  repeated  her  question, 
and  looked  straight  into  the  eyes  of  the  man  that 
loved  hei\  "  You  have  been  good  to  me.  You 
have  cared  for  me  constantly  in  little  kind  ways. 
Mrs.  Browning  says,  '  these  things  have  their 
weight  with  girls ' " ;  and  a  faint  smile  trembled 
about  Leigh's  lips.  "I  suppose  she  knew.  You 
have  been  with  me  weeks  and  weeks.  I  have 
grown  used  to  you,  and  now  you  tell  me  that 
you  love  me ;  and  in  return  I  give  much  regard, 
a  grateful  affection  perhaps,  but  is  it  love  1  It  is 


ONE  SUMMER.  225 

not  like  the  love  I  have  dreamed  of ! "  she  ex- 
claimed passionately. 

Philip  wondered  if  there  were  another  woman  in 
the  world  so  true  as  the  one  who  stood  before  him,  _ 
trying  to  let  him  read  her  very  heart  as  if  it  were 
an  open  book,  and  whose  face  and  attitude  and 
voice,  by  sudden  eloquent  little  changes  each  mo- 
ment, seemed  to  reveal  every  phase  of  the  feeling 
which  stirred  her  so  deeply. 

He  did  not  speak,  for  he  saw  that  she  had  more 
to  say  to  him. 

"  Let  me  speak  more  plainly."  And  she  carefully 
chose  her  words,  and  endeavored  to  be  quite  calm. 
"  Your  presence  makes  me  very  happy.  I  think  I 
would  like  you  to  come  very  often  to  my  sister's 
home,  yet  I  do  not  feel  that  for  you  I  would,  if 
you  asked  me  to-day,  give  up  that  home,  and  all 
the  pleasant  things  in  my  old  life,"  Leigh  went 
on  bravely,  though  she  was  evidently  making  a 
mighty  effort.  "  I  have  always  believed  no  woman 
ought  to  marry  a  man,  if  she  feels  she  can  under 
any  circumstances  be  happy  without  him.  Am  I 
talking  strangely  1  Forgive  me.  Do  not  be  angry 
with  me.  I  do  care  very  much  for  you,  and  I 
should  miss  yon  if  you  did  not  come  to  my  home, 
and  I  should  think  of  you  often  at  first,  but  after 
a  time  I  think  I  might  be  quite  happy  without 
you."  Then,  with  a  tremulous  voice,  suggestive 
of  the  deepest  emotion,  and  also  of  a  nervous 
desire  to  laugh,  she  said,  "  A  woman,  if  she  really 
loves  a  man,  ought  to  be  willing  to  go  and  live  in 
a  log-cabin  with  him,  out  on  the  prairies,  and  I  do 
not  love  you  enough  for  that.  I  know  I  do  not. 
10*  o 


226  ONE  SUMMER. 

Do  not  think  me  speaking  lightly,"  she  said  plead- 
ingly. "  It  is  so  hard  to  tell  you  exactly  what  I 
mean,  and  I  am  so  sad  at  heart.  But  when  you 
.offer  me  so  royal  a  gift  as  your  love,  when  you 
place  all  that  you  have,  and  all  that  you  are,  at 
my  feet,  I  must,  at  least,  give  you  absolute  truth 
in  return.  You  see  how  I  trust  you.  I  am  trying 
to  tell  you  every  thought." 

"  I  know  that  you  trust  me,"  Philip  said,  tak- 
ing in  his  own  her  two  trembling  hands,  and 
holding  them  firmly,  "and  I  believe  that  I  can 
teach  you  to  love  me.  Leigh,  you  must  love  me  a 
little,  or  you  could  not  let  me  hold  these  dear 
hands  in  mine,  nor  touch  them  with  my  lips. 
See,  I  kiss  them  over  and  over,  and  you  do  not 
draw  them  away.  Already  you  give  me  far  more 
than  1  deserve,  and  for  the  rest  I  can  wait  very, 
very  patiently." 

Leigh  was  touched  indescribably  by  the  quiet 
tenderness  of  his  manner. 

"  But,"  she  said,  "  is  this  right  ]  What  if  the 
day  comes  when  I  look  you  in  the  face  and  say  I 
do  not  love  you  ]  What  would  you  think  of  me 
then  1 " 

"  I  should  think  what  I  think  now,  that  your 
true  heart  had  revealed  itself  to  me  in  all  honor." 

"  But  I  ought  to  know  ;  it  is  weak  to  hesitate. 
I  cannot  bear  to  think  that  I  may  be  deceiving 
you." 

"  You  cannot  deceive  me.  Let  your  heart  be 
quite  at  rest.  Do  not  question  yourself  and  be 
troubled  any  longer,  for,  whatever  comes,  you  will 
not  have  deceived  me  for  one  moment.  But,  dear, 


OXE  SUMMER.  227 

I  think  you  will  love  me.  Do  you  forgive  me  for 
feeling  so  sure?" 

"Mr.  Ogdeu,  will  I  seem  foolish  if  I  ask  you, 
how  do  I  know  but  some  day  I  may  experience  a 
stronger,  deeper  love  than  that  which  I  feel  for 
you  1  I  have  not  seen  everybody." 

Philip  smiled  at  her  unconscious  admission,  and 
at  the  utter  simplicity  of  her  manner. 

"  Dear,  you  will  honor  me  beyond  all  the  world, 
if  you  will  give  me  the  happiness  of  assuming  that 
risk."  Then  he  said,  more  gravelv,  "  I  know  well 
that  I  am  no  hero.  You  will  meet  many  a  person 
more  like  the  ideal  man  you  may  have  dreamed 
of  loving,  but  I  love  you  with  my  whole  soul, 
Leigh." 

"  When  you  speak  so,  you  place  me  in  a  different 
atmosphere.  It  is  as  if  I  were  quite  promised  to 
you,"  Leigh  said,  in  a  pained,  low  voice.  "  I  have 
always  been  so  decided  in  everything,  and  I  have 
felt  so  distressed  in  the  last  few  days  because  of 
my  doubts.  Love,  real  love,  never  hesitates  so. 
Are  you  sure  that  you  understand  1  1  cannot  feel 
that  I  wish  to  lose  you  utterly ;  yet,  Mr.  Ogden, 
you  are  very  far  from  being  all  the  world  to  me. 
Do  you  think  you  understand  1 " 

"  Everything,  everything,  and  what  you  tell  me 
makes  me  profoundly  happyj  and  I  love  you  a 
thousand  times  more  for  every  noble  word  you 
have  said  to-night.  I  have  unspeakable  faith  in 
your  perfect  truth  towards  me.  Whatever  you  do 
will  be  sweet  and  right." 

"  1  shall  feel  differently  now.  You  are  so  good' 
it  rests  me." 


228  ONE  SUMMER. 

"  You  have  given  me  such  happiness,  such 
blessed  hope  !  " 

"  Ah,  but  please  do  not  be  happy  quite  yet !  I 
do  not  know." 

"  I  know,"  said  Philip,  under  his  breath.  "  Will 
you  say  good  by  to  your  sister  and  Tom  for  me  ? 
I  want  you  all  alone,  just  as  you  stand  there,  so 
fair  and  sweet,  with  the  lovely  eyes  looking  up  at 
me,  and  telling  me  that  you  love  me  a  little,  for 
the  very  last  picture  I  take  away  in  my  heart 
from  here."  And,  bending  again  over  the  hands 
he  held  so  closely,  he  said,  "  I  can  be  quite  patient, 
only  trust  me,  dear."  And  in  a  moment  his  step 
sounded  rapidlv  on  the  pavement,  and  Leigh  was 
alone.  But  not  long  was  she  left  to  her  sweet 
meditations.  Out  came  Tom,  careful!  v  guarded 
by  Bessie.  His  long-suppressed  mischief,  forbid- 
den to  express  itself  in  words,  found  vent  in  pro- 
longed, inquiring  stares,  and  glances  of  commisera- 
tion, and  Bessie's  most  frantic  efforts  did  not  pre- 
vent him  from  drawling  out,  in  a  supernaturally 
solemn  voice,  — 

"  Blest  is  the  tie  that  b-i-n-d-s 
Duni  di  do,  di  dum  de, 
The  fellowship  of  kindred  m-i-n-d-s, 
Dum  di  do,  di  dum  de," 

as  he  passed  Leigh  her  candle,  and  gave  her  an 
affectionate  good-night. 


ONE  SUMMER.  229 


CHAPTER    XVIII. 


'  Whence  came  ye,  jolly  Satyrs  !    Whence  came  ye, 
So  many,  and  so  many,  and  such  glee  ? " 
KEATS. 


HAT  amazing  sounds  !  "  exclaimed  Leigh, 
as  she,  with  Tom  and  Bessie,  returning 
from  Gem's  late  one  afternoon,  rode 
slowly  along  the  winding  wood-road. 
"  Are  we  coming  npon  sylvan  deities  at  their 
revels  1 "  And  they  all  peered  curiously  through 
the  trees. 

The  approaching  sounds  grew  more  distinct,  and 
Tom  remarked,  "  Whatever  they  may  be,  they  are 
singing  college-songs,  with  immense  gusto  ;  and  no 
faun  that  ever  capered  could  shout  in  Blake's 
basso  profundo,  which  greets  me  now,  if  my  ears 
do  not  deceive  me." 

He  whipped  up  his  horse  in  some  excitement, 
and  a  sudden  turn  in  the  road  disclosed  three 
young  men,  walking  arm  in  arm,  smiling  broadly 
upon  the  universe,  and  melodiously  chanting  the 
inspiring  strains  of  Crambambuli,  while  one  of 
them  vigorously  beat  time  with  a  long  leafy 
branch.  When  he  saw  Tom,  he  wildly  waved 
his  baton  high  in  the  air.  and  rushed  forward. 
Tom  made  a  dashing  leap  over  the  wheel  of  the 
old  wagon,  arid  ejaculating,  "  That  eye  !  Those 
nose  !  'T  is  he  !  "  ran  to  meet  him,  and  the  two 


230  OXE  SUMMER. 

in  a  pathetic  manner  threw  themselves  into  each 
other's  outstretched  arms,  while  the  long  branch 
gently  and  ridiculously  swayed  over  their  heads. 

"  Ladies,  pardon  our  emotion,"  said  Mr.  Blake, 
approaching  the  wagon,  and  receiving  laughing 
and  cordial  greetings  from  Bessie  and  Leigh, 
"  but  we  only  arrived  an  hour  ago.  We  were  in 
search  of  you.  My  joy  at,  beholding  Tom's  beloved 
form  was  uncontrollable.  Here  's  Morton,  whom 
you  know,  but  perhaps  you  did  not  know  that  he 
is  suspected  of  writing  poetry  ;  and  my  young 
brother,  whom  you  used  to  kuow  before  he  shot 
up  so  marvellously.  lufant,  make  your  best  bow 
to  the  ladies.  The  gallant  crew  of  the  Idlewild  is 
reduced  to  these  three  gloomy  and  ancient  mari- 
ners, upon  whom  I  beg  you  will  take  pity." 

"  You  do  look  sad,  Mr.  Blake,"  said  Leigh,  "  and 
the  voices  of  all  of  you  gentlemen  sounded  full  of 
an  untold  woe  as  you  crept  so  wearily  down  the 
hill.  Did  you  venture,  may  I  ask,  to  come  through 
the  village  so  1 "  And  she  looked  smilingly  at 
young  Blake. 

"  We  did  not  sing  till  we  got  to  the  woods,  and 
Dick  had  no  branch  to  flourish,  and  that,  I  suppose, 
added  to  our  imposing  effect ;  still  we  rather  flatter 
ourselves  we  made  a  sensation.  We  inarched  arm 
in  arm  straight  from  the  yacht  to  your  present 
domicile,  inquiring  our  way,  of  course.  The  in- 
habitants rushed  to  the  doors  and  windows,  and 
'  the  little  dog  laughed  to  see  such  sport  '  —  " 

"  And  here  we  are,  suppliants  before  you,"  in- 
terrupted his  brother.  "  We  have  left  all  the  good 
comrades,  with  whom  we  started,  at  one  place 


ONE  SUMMER.  231 

after  another  on  the  coast.  Can  you  join  us  to- 
morrow, Mrs.  Otis  ] " 

"  0,  thanks,  but  to-morrow  is  so  very  soon  !  " 

"  Have  pity  on  Morton.  He  has  to  read  his 
odes  to  our  dull  ears." 

"  I  'm  not  conscious  of  having  perpetrated  an 
ode  since  I  've  been  on  the  Idlewild,"  remarked 
the  latter  gentleman ;  "  but  the  most  prosaic  in- 
dividual, like  our  emaciated  friend,"  —  putting 
his  hand  on  Mr.  Blake's  stalwart  shoulder,  — 
"  might  have  a  soul  above  mackerel,  and  immor- 
talize himself  in  verse,  if  you  ladies  would  only 
grace  the  yacht  with  your  presence." 

"  And  Will  here,"  went  on  Mr.  Blake,  "  he  's 
young.  He  writes  the  Log  and  makes  our  puns. 
That  is,  he  makes  the  most  and  the  worst.  We  've 
tried  to  humor  the  child  and  laugh,  but  there  has 
been  an  awful  gloom  over  the  yacht  of  late,  and 
we  can  laugh  no  more.  You  ladies  have  kind 
hearts.  Will  you  not  encourage  the  youth  ] " 

"  If  you  will  allow  me  to  offer  you  some  friendly 
advice,"  said  Bessie  to  Will,  "  I  would  suggest 
that  you  resign  your  office  of  punster-in-chief  be- 
fore Mr.  Otis  goes  on  board.  He  will  be  a  power- 
ful rival.  His  puns,  when  he  is  much  excited, 
are  the  worst  in  the  world.  No  one  can  possibly 
surpass  him." 

Whereupon  the  boy  responded,  that  if  he  were 
forced  to  resign  the  only  position  in  which  he 
could  hope  to  distinguish  himself,  he  should  rely 
upon  the  constant  society  of  the  ladies  as  a  con- 
solation ;  which  sentiment  was  warmly  applauded 
by  his  elders,  and  his  brother  encouragingly  re- 
marked, — 


232  OXE  SUMMER. 

"  Bravo,  Infant !  Never  did  better  than  that  at 
your  age,  myself." 

So  they  chatted  in  the  "merry  green  -wood,"  the 
young  men  grouped  about  the  wagon  in  which  the 
two  ladies  were  enthroned.  Eloquently  did  the 
Blakes  plead  their  cause.  The  trip  they  proposed 
was  to  Mount  Desert,  and  they  promised,  wind 
and  weather  permitting,  to  bring  the  ladies  home 
within  a  week.  Bessie's  reluctance  to  leave  baby 
for  such  an  age  was  overcome  by  Tom,  who  as- 
serted himself  manfully,  and  declared  that  the 
nurse  was  a  tower  of  strength,  and  that  the  small 
atom  of  humanity  would  thrive  equally  well,  in 
the  healthful  country  air,  whether  its  mamma 
presided  each  day  over  its  sleeve-knots,  or  re- 
signed that  arduous  toil  for  a  week.  And  Leigh's 
disinclination  to  leave  Gem  quite  vet  was  met 
with  facetious  remarks  from  Tom,  and  importu- 
nate prayers  from  the  other  young  men. 

"  Where  is  the  boy  ]  Show  him  to  me,"  said  Mr. 
Blake.  "  Be  he  alive  or  be  he  dead,  I  '11  take  him 
along  with  us,  if  he  is  the  one  impediment  in  Miss 
Doane's  path  to  the  Idlewild.'1 

"  I  only  wish  you  might  take  him,"  said  Leigh. 
"  The  dear  child  would  be  so  happy  to  go  ;  but  it 
would  not  be  safe.  He  only  sits  up  an  hour  or 
two  each  day." 

"Blake,  as  you  value  your  happiness,  don't  think 
of  taking  him.  He  would  be  worse  on  board  than 
the  man  who  shot  the  albatross.  Miss  Doane 
makes  a  kind  of  fetich  of  him,  and  has  imbued  my 
wife  with  the  same  idolatrous,  superstitious  folly. 
I  have  succeeded  thus  far  in  preserving  that  sturdy 


ONE  SUMMER.  233 

uprightness  which  my  biographers  will  vie  with 
each  other  in  praising ;  and  you,  Harry,  I  know, 
have  sufficient  manly  independence  to  be  proof 
against  any  of  their  fatuous  wiles;  but  Morton,  as 
everybody  is  aware,  is  uncommonly  susceptible, 
and  Will  is  over-young,  and  we  might  see  four 
prostrate  forms  on  the  deck  of  the  Idlewild,  bend- 
ing in  blind  adoration  before  that  Holbrook- phe- 
nomenon." 

"He  's  jealous,  Mr.  Blake,"  said  Leigh.  "Gem 
is  a  charming  child,  and  you  shall  -all  see  him,  for 
he  is  going  home  to  make  me  a  visit,  and  1  do 
not  think  I  shall  ever  let  him  go  away  from  me 
again." 

"  Happy,  thrice-happy  Gem  !  "  said  young  Blake. 
"  But  do  not  destroy  my  peace  of  mind  by  taking 
him  on  the  yacht.  Miss  Doane  likes  young  people. 
At  present  1  am,  at  least,  the  youngest  of  the  party. 
Perhaps  she  will  deign  to  notice  me.  If  that  Gein 
appears,  I  shall  be  nowhere."  And  the  Infant,  a 
long,  lank  youth  of  nineteen,  whose  tall  form  had 
not  had  time  as  yet  to  "  fill  out,"  and  whose  face 
was  fresh  in  its  coloring  and  bright  with  good- na- 
ture and  fun,  tried  to  look  disconsolate,  and  failed 
signally.  "  I  may  not  be  a  Gem,  but  why  may  I 
not  be  somebody's  own  sweet  Will  1  And  won't 
somebody  help  me  with  the  Log?  It  's  an  awful 
bore  !  Miss  Leigh,  you  and  I  used  to  be  good 
friends  in  the  mud-pie  days." 

"  I  will  help  3*011,  you  poor,  abused  boy,"  said 
Leigh,  laughing  ;  "  and  if  you  will  be  good  to  Gem 
next  winter,  for  he  and  I  are  sworn  friends,  you 
know,  I  will  be  very  good  to  you  on  the  yacht." 


234  ONE  SUMMER. 

"  0  heavens  !  Hear  that  demented  girl.  '  Love 
me,  love  my  Gem,'  is  her  one  thought.  I  took  a 
peep  at  the  boy  myself,  to-day,  though  I  do  not 
usually  encourage  him  by  so  much  as  a  glance. 
You  should  see  him.  Thiu  !  thinner  than  the  In- 
fant here,  and  about  a  ttm-d  as  long.  Ogden,  who 
used  to  be  a  man  of  sense,  is  gone  daft  on  the  sub- 
ject, too,  and  he  sent  on  somewhere  for  an  easy- 
chair,  which  is  luxurious  beyond  description,  and 
the  idol  sits  in  it,  with  fruit  and  flowers  and  other 
votive  offerings  till  about,  and  the  Arabian  Nights 
magnificently  illustrated,  and  Robinson  Crusoe,  and 
a  pile  of  books  as  high  as  your  head,  on  a  table 
that  groans  beneath  their  weight ;  and  I  think  I 
detected  Leigh  burning  incense  the  other  day.  Is 
it  not  pitiable  ?  " 

"  But  where  is  Ogdefl?  Is  he  with  the  wonder- 
ful boy  1  Where  shall  I  find  him  1 " 

"  Where  the  breaking  waves  dash  high  on  the  . 
stern  and  rock-bound  coast  of  Manhegan." 

"  And  is  he  off  there  1  ,1  depended  upon  him. 
Frailty,  thy  name  is  Ogden  !  " 

"  \  'm  glad  of  it  ! "  exclaimed  Will,  savagely. 
"  There  are  men  enough  on  the  yacht.  We  've 
had  a  surfeit  of  them  ever  since  we  started.  / 
can  survive  the  absence  of  Mr.  Ogden,  and  if  you 
want  to  go  off,  Mr.  Morton,  to  '  some  unsuspected 
isle  in  far-off  seas,'  I  '11  try  to  bear  it.  Tom,  you 
don't  count,  because  you  are  married.  It's  no 
matter  about  you."  And  the  audacious  Infant 
smiled  significantly  and  placidly  at  Leigh. 

"  I  'm  like  Miss  Murdstone.  '  Generally  speak- 
ing, I  don't  like  boys ! '  "  retorted  Mr.  Morton.  "  This 


ONE  SUMMER.  235 

youth  being  the  brother  of  my  host,  I  have  thus  far 
refrained  from  dropping  into  Davy  Jones's  locker, 
but  there  are  limits  to  my  forbearance." 

Meanwhile  Tom  and  Mr.  Blake  were  discussing 
Philip's  disappearance,  and  the  probabilities  of 
finding  him.  Finally,  when  all  the  doubts  of  the 
ladies  had  been  met  and  silenced,  and  all  the  ar- 
rangements for  the  trip  perfected,  the  party  went 
on  towards  the  village,  with  young  Blake,  however, 
in  the  wagon  with  the  ladies.  Tom  tramped  along 
with  his  friends.  The  woods  resounded  with 
"Gaudeamus,"  and  milkmaids  in  distant  farm- 
yards lifted  their  heads  in  wonder  and  affright 
to  listen  to  the  echoes  awakened  by  the  classic 

"  Hey  down  derry, 
We  '11  drink  ami  be  merry, 
In  spite  of  Mahdfcet's  law." 


236  OXE  SUMMER. 


CHAPTER    XIX. 


'Till  there  was  none  of  them  but  fain  would  be 
Set  in  the  ship,  nor  cared  one  man  to  stay 
On  the  green  earth  for  one  more  idle  day." 

WILLIAM  MORRIS. 

'  For  Shadwell  never  deviates  into  sense." 

DRYDES. 


POX  the  deck  of  the  Idle  wild  *  sat  the 
Infant  with  a  ponderous  tome.  Beside 
him  were  Leigh  holding  his  iukstand, 
and  Bessie  aiding  the  important  work  of 
writing  the  Log  by  her  sympathy  and  valuable 
suggestions.  Thus  irfpired,  the  young  man  wrote 
as  follows  :  — 

THURSDAY,  August  30,  11  A.  M. 

Left  Edgecomb  at  9  1-2  A.  M.  Wind  southwest,  blow- 
ing fresh.  Barometer  out  of  order.  We  have  on  board, 
in  addition  to  persons  who  have  already  received  in 
these  pages  more  honorable  mention  than  they  deserve, 
Mr.  Tom  Otis,  Mrs.  Otis,  and  Miss  L.  L.  Doane. 

*  The  author  would  express?  her  indebtedness  to  the  verita- 
ble Log  of  a  veritable  yacht  Idlewild  for  certain  items  which 
will  readily  be  recognized  by  persons  who  have  had  or  may  have 
the  good  fortune  of  sailing  in  that  most  charming  of  crafts,  and 
of  being  entertained  by  its  courteous  owners. 

She  will  also  remark,  in  this  connection,  that  while  Edge- 
comb  bears  a  slight  resemblance  to  a  pleasant  old  town  in 
Maine  in  respect  of  its  scenery,  there  the  resemblance  ceases. 
She  therefore  begs  not  to  be  accused  of  libel,  and  pleads  with 
Sairey  Gamp, 

"  Which  naming  no  names,  no  offence  could  be  took."    . 


ONE  SUMMER.  237 

Mr.  Tom  Otis  is  the  hero  of  twenty-nine  pitched 
battles.  His  bones  are  whitening  on  a  dozen  tented 
plains,  and  the  blood  he  has  shed  is  of  the  best  of 
Virginia.  Jovial,  witty,  and  of  a  large  and  varied  ex- 
perience, the  party  is 'anticipating  a  vast  amount  of 
entertainment  from  him  as  soon  as  he  recovers  from 
the  sea-sickness  which  he  is  momentarily  expecting. 

Mrs.  Otis  and  Miss  Doane  being  at  the  present"  mo- 
ment seated  on  deck  with  the  historiographer  of  this 
cruise,  and  looking  over  his  shoulder  as  he  writes,  he 
naturally  feels  the  blush  of  ingenuous  youth  mounting 
1o  his  brow,  and  shrinks  from  the  presumption  of  re- 
ducing to  cold,  dull  words  the  sentiments  which  their 
dazzling  beauty  and  indescribable  charm  of  manner 
produce  in  his  mind.  Not  wielding  the  pen  of  a 
Jenkins,  he  does  not  know  how  to  describe  their  cos- 
tumes. He  can,  however,  testify  that  he  has  just  seen 
Mrs.  Otis  take  from  her  travelling-bag  a  small  cube  of 
some  mysterious  white  substaM:e.  The  historiographer 
in  trepidation  ventured  to  inquire  its  name  and  use. 
The  reply  was,  "  Why  child,  it  Js  only  magnesia.  We 
expect  to  see  friends  at  Mount  Desert,  and  we  have 
not  the  faintest  idea  of  looking  like  frights  if  we 
can  help  it."  AVhereupon  these  lovely  ladies  calmty 
cover  their  fair  faces  with  a  chalky  mask,  bestowing 
a  double  amount  of  care  upon  the  tips  of  their  deli- 
cate noses,  where,  they  remark,  "  sunburn  is  so  ex- 
tremely unbecoming."  The  historiographer,  lost  in 
wonder,  awaits  further  revelations  from  these  mar- 
vellous beings. 

2  P.  M. 

The  day  is  delightful.  Passed  the  Narrows  at  11.45, 
the  Ledges  at  12.10,  and  the  Indian  at  12.30.  Saluted 
him,  and  dipped  our  colors,  the  pilot  informing  us  it 
is  customary  to  do  the  venerable  old  fellow  that  honor. 
His  outlines  in  the  rock  are  faint  and  shadowy.  He 
looks  forlorn,  and  as  if  he  had  bettor  depart  at  once  for 


238  OXE  SUMMER. 

the  land  of  the  setting  sun  in  search  of  his  brethren. 
Without  wishing  to  destroy  illusions  cherished  by 
persons  who  go  down  to  the  sea  in  ships,  sailing  upon 
this  beautiful  river,  and  who  fondly  believe  in  the 
Indian,  we,  Miss  Doane  and  the  Infant,  do  not  hesitate 
to  affirm,  that  we  can  discover  very  little  Indian  indeed 
in  the  ledge  where  his  historic  form  is  supposed  to  be 
imbedded ;  furthermore,  we  boldly  state  that  the  eye 
of  faith  is  required  to  see  any  Indian  at  all  ;  that  he 
might  as  well  be  called  the  cat,  or  the  goose,  or  the 
porcupine  ;  that  we  have  no  respect  for  him  whatever; 
and  if  the  owner  of  the  yacht  persists  in  giving  him  a 
salute  on  our  return,  we  shall  manifest  our  disapproval 
by  standing  in  silent  dignity,  with  our  backs  turned  to 
that  aboriginal  object,  and  our  eyes  fastened  upon  the 
opposite  shore. 

Not  wishing  to  lose  a  moment  of  this  glorious  air 
and  scenery,  we  luncjied  at  1.30.  on  deck. 

Made  Hendrick's  Hea(tf  Light '  at  2.30,  and  anchored 
in  Cape  Xewaggen  Harror  at  3.45.  Tried  fishing  for 
a  while  before  dinner,  which  was  served  at  5  P.  M. 
Sun  shining  clearly  ;  air  warm.  Whole  party  a  little 
fatigued  with  hauling  up  their  lines  to  look  at  the 
bait. 

The  scene  on  deck  during  the  evening  was  picturesque 
in  the  extreme.  The  ladies,  half  reclining  upon  huge 
piles  of  cushions,  fell  into  a  dangerously  sentimental 
mood.  They  dreamily  remarked  upon  the  beauty  of 
the  quiet  little  harbor,  and  the  pretty  outline  of  the 
shore.  They  were  heard  to  express  a  lervent  desire  to 

"  Eat  the  lotus  of  the  Nile, 
And  drink  the  poppies  of  Cathay." 

Mr.  Otis  informed  them  that  there  was  not  a  lotus 
or  a  poppy  on  board,  and  appealed  to  Blake,  Senior,  for 
corroboration,  which  was  heartily  given,  —  the  latter 
gentleman  remarking  he  would'  have  ordered  some 


ONE  SUMMER.  239 

down  with  the  last  supplies,  if  he  M  known  the  ladies 
would  wish  that  sort  of  thing.  He  volunteered  to 
send  the  steward  in  the  small  boat  to  the  nearest  place 
on  the  coast  where  there  was  a  druggist,  for  some  mor- 
phine, which  did  not  sound  as  euphonious  as  "  the 
poppies  of  Cathay,"  but  he  presumed  it  would  answer 
the  .same  purpose.  The  ladies  objected  to  the  flippant 
style  of  conversation  in  which  these  two  world-hardened 
men  indulged,  and  begged  them  to  drink  in  the  quiet 
loveliness  of  the  night,  or  at  least  to  assume  a  virtue, 
if  they  had  it  not,  and  be  silent  ;  and  soon  nothing 
was  heard  but  the  occasional  breaking  of  the  waves 
on  the  great  rocks  that  lined  the  harbor's  entrance. 

Inspired  by  the  perfections  of  the  night  and  the  beau- 
tiful Miss  Doane,  challenged  by  that  wretched  pair, 
Otis  and  Blake,  Senior,  and  strongly  urged  to  prove  his 

Ewers   by  the   ladies   and  the    Infant,    Mr.    Richard 
arton  distinguished  himself  by. the  following 

"  IMPROMPTU. 

"  0  the  sea,  the  beautiful  sea! 
The  earth  and  the  sky  are  as  nothing  to  me. 
Only  the  rise  and  the  fall  of  the.  tide 
Seem  fittest  to  speak  of  with  thee  by  my  side. 
For  when  thou  dost  smile,  my  hope  like  the  flow 
Of  the  incoming  tide  ever  onward  doth  go  ; 
But  when  for  the  smile  you  give  me  a  frown, 
Like  the  outgoing  tide  my  hope  floweth  down 
Then  smile,  and  not  frown,  and  close  by  my  side 
Let's  float  on  the  waves  of  the  inflowing  tide." 

The  historiographer  does  not  know  whether  this  is  or 
is  not  a  very  superior  article,  but  inserts  it  in  the  Log 
to  help  fill  up,  and  because  it  is  the  best  thing  of  the 
sort  that  can  be  produced  at  present  upon  the  Idlewild, 
no  man  on  board  but  Morton  knowing  how  to  mount 
any  kind  of  a  Pegasus.  The  historiographer  privately 
suspects  that  Mr.  Morton's  '  winged  steed '  can't  fly,  and 


240  OXE  SUMMER. 

that  he  is  a  gaunt,  raw-boned  nag,  —  a  sort  of  Rosi- 
nante, 

The  impromptu  was  received  with  great  favor  by 
the  ladies,  who  declared  that  the  beauty  of  it  was,  that 
Mr.  Murton  did  not  mean  a  word  he  said  ;  in  return 
they  recited  some  charming  poems.  The  writer  of  this 
chronicle,  though  young  and  inexperienced,  as  has  been 
previously  remarked,  could  but  observe  the  striking 
earnestness  with  which  Miss  Laura  Leigh  Doane  re- 
peated, "  Tides,"  a  very  tender  and  sweet  love-poem  by 
"  H.  H."  ;  and  the  intense  feeling  which  she  threw  into 
the  closing  words,  "  Love  has  a  tide  !  "  almost  made  the 
innocent  youth's  hair  stand  on  end  with  amazement. 
He  happens  to  know  that  Miss  Doane  has  been  making 
the  journey  of  life  but  two  short  months  longer  than 
himself,  and  he  wonders  how  it  is  that  she  seems  to 
have  gotten  such  leagues  in  advance.  He  was  about  to 
propound  this  question  in  all  sincerity,  when  a  voice 
disturbed  the  hush  that  followed  the  poem. 

"  Leigh,  that  was  very  touching,  very  touching  indeed. 
Harry  and  I  wept  to  hear  you  go  on  in  that  style,  but 
you  were  looking  in  exactly  the  wrong  direction.  Man- 
hegan  is  over  this  way.'' 

The  meaning  of  which  pleasantry,  though  half  hid- 
den, Morton  and  the  historiographer  dimly  guess  at, 
and  long  to  sink  the  wretched  isle  and  all  whom  it 
shelters  beneath  the  waves  of  the  Atlantic. 

It  is  the  painful  duty  of  the  Infant,  as  an  honest 
chronicler  of  this  cruise,  to  state  that  his  brother,  to 
whom  he  was  wont  to  look  for  admonition,  counsel,  and 
example,  and  Mr.  Tom  Otis,  a  man  for  whom  he  has 
ever  cherished  the  most  profound  veneration,  did  unite, 
deliberately,  wickedly,  and  maliciously,  to  destroy  the 
glamour  of  poetry  and  sentiment  which  all  things  else 
conspired  to  throw  over  the  minds  of  the  other  mem- 
bers of  the  party.  Morton  and  the  historiographer  were 
prepared  to  follow  blindly  where  the  ladies  would  lead, 
and  they,  though  perfectly  aware  that  they  were  safely 


ONE  SUMMER.  241 

anchored  in  the  snug  little  harbor  of  Cape  Newaggen, 
did  not  hesitate,  as  they  listened  to  the  ripple  of  the 
water  against  the  yacht,  to  give  utterance  to  vague  and 
delicious  fancies  about  "drifting  along  with  the  stream," 
and  gondolas,  and  Venice,  and  "  the  magic  of  the  sea  "  ; 
and  they  recited  many  poems,  and  sung  sweet  songs  in 
a  way  that  was  bewitching  in  the  extreme  to  their  two 
devoted  slaves,  but  which  led  to  deplorable  results. 
The  historiographer  blushes  to  recall  the  scene  that  fol- 
lowed, and  the  heartless  Vandalism  of  Messrs.  Otis  and 
Blake.  They  retired  to  the  bow  and  held  a  whispered 
consultation,  then  returned,  and  Mr.  Otis  in  a  grave  and 
dignified  manner  remarked  that  he  was  aware  that  they 
had  not  seemed  entirely  in  sympathy  with  their  sur- 
roundings, or  with  the  refined  and  elevated  sentiments 
of  the  rest  of  the  party  ;  that  it  was  not,  however,  al- 
ways best  to  judge  from  appearances  ;  that  their  hearts 
were  in  reality  profoundly  moved,  and  in  evidence  of 
their  sincerity  they  would  beg  to  be  allowed  to  con- 
tribute to  the  general  happiness  by  reciting  some 
poetry. 

Here  Mr.  Blake  remarked  that  he  and  Mr.  Otis  had 
most  carefully  observed  the  character  of  the  poems 
quoted  by  the  ladies,  by  their  gifted  friend  Morton, 
and  by  the  yoiVhg  and  promising  Infant,,  and  that  they 
would  not  presume  to  introduce  any  inharmonious 
subjects.  They  would  only  venture  to  repeat  lines 
relating  to  the  fathomless  sea,  or  suggestive  of  longings 
after  the  unattainable,  the  might-  have-been,  the  never- 
more. 

Whereupon  he  formally  stated  that  he  now  had  the 
honor  of  presenting  to  the  intelligent  audience  before 
him  the  popular  reader  and  elocutionist,  Mr.  Tom  Otis. 

Mr.  Otis  gracefully  bowed,  and  remarked  that  the 
title  of  the  poem  he  was  about  to  recite  being  sunk 
in  oblivion,  he  would  venture  to  call  it,  for  reasons 
that  no  doubt  a  part  of  his  audience  would  fully  appre- 
ciate, 

11  p 


242  ONE  SUMMER. 

"A  LEGEND  OF  MAXHEGAN." 

In  a  voice  and  manner  that  beggar  description  he 
began  as  follows  :  — 

"  Poor  Jonathan  Snow 
Away  did  go, 
All  ou  the  ragin'  mane, 
With  other  males, 
For  to  ketch  whales, 
An'  ne'er  come  back  agane. 

"The  winds  Woo  hi, 
The  billers  tost, 
All  hands  was  lost ; 
An'  he  was  one, 
A  spritely  lad 
Ni  twenty-one." 

Mr.  Blake,  when  the  excitement  produced  by  his 
friend's  recitation  had  died  away,  stated  that  it  would 
be  impossible  to  equal  the  pure  pathos  and 


description  of  the  fury  of  the  elements,  which  he  ob- 
served had  electrified  the  listeners  in  the  choice  of  Mr. 
Otis.  Jonathan  was  a  unique  production,  and  stood 
alone  upon  the  heights  of  literature.  [Cries  of  Hear  ! 
Hear !  from  Mr.  Otis,  and  groans  from  the  ladies.] 
But  the  great  heart  of  humanity  can  be  touched  in 
many  ways.  From  the  tender  Folk  Songs  of  a  simple 
people,  he  would  select  some  verses  by  an  unnkown 
poet,  —  verses  which  contrasted  strongly  with  the  in- 
spired vigor  of  the  immortal  Jonathan,  but  which  in 
calm  simplicity  of  diction,  sweet  regret,  and  patient 
sadness  of  theme  were  also  unequalled. 

"A  DREAM. 

•'  I  had  a  dream  ; 
I  dreamed  I  was  alone, 
Alone ! 

And  oh  !  it  was  so  sad 
Away  from  home, 

From  home ! 


ONE  SUMMER.  243 

"  Upon  the  sand 
My  eyes  I  bent, 

I  bent ! 

Upon  my  hand 
My  head  I  leant, 

I  leant ! 

"  I  thought  of  days 
Gone  by  aud  things, 

And  things  ! 
And  simple 
Childish  joys  and  strings, 

And  strings  ! " 

The  ladies  rose  in  disgust,  and  went  below,  declaring 
that  men  who  ruin  even  the  moonlight  by  such  "  hor- 
rid hideous  notes  of  woe"  ought  to  have  weights  and 
"  things,  and  things,"  tied  to  their  necks,  and  be 
dropped  into  the  sea. 

It  is  suspected  that  the  effect  produced  by  these  two 
designing  villains  was  precisely  what  they  had  planned, 
the  hour  being  12  p.  M.,  at  which  time  dull,  prosaic 
souls  are  apt  to  get  sleepy.  So  ended  the  memorable 
evening  at  Cape  Newaggen. 


244  ONE  SUMMER. 


CHAPTER    XX. 


'  End  things  must,  end  howsoe'er  things  may." 

BROWNING. 

FRIDAY,  August  31. 

JEAUTIFUL  weather.  Left  Cape  Newaggen 
at  9  A.  M.,  and  went  out  to  a  fishing- 
ground  for  cod.  The  ladies  appeared  fresh 
and  bright  at  breakfast,  and  Mrs.  Otis  enliv- 
ened the  party  by  making  the  astounding  discovery 
that  we  have  on  board  the  world-renowned,  graceless 
trio,  Torn,  Dick,  and  Harry,  associating  intimately  with 
an  "  L.  L.  D." 

11  A.   M. 

Morton  has  just  caugbt  a  forty-five-pound  cod,  and 
is  in  a  gloriously  exultant  state.  He  suggests  that  we 
unite  in  singing,  as  a  morning  hyuiu,  the  exquisite 
lines  of  Watts,  — 

"  Up  from  the  deep 
Ye  codlins,  creep, 
And  wag  your  tails  about." 

Passed  Manhegan  at  12  M.  White  Head  at  2.05 
P.  M.,  and  anchored  in  Owl's  Head  Harbor  at  3.30  p.  M., 
having  had  tine  weather  and  a  most  agreeable  sail. 
Oft'  Manhegan  an  animated  discussion  was  held.  Mr. 
Philip  Ogden  —  who,  as  he  might  have  been  on  the 
Idlewild,  and  is  not,  is  supposed  to  be  laboring  under 
a  temporary  aberration  of  mind,  wandering  about 
among  the  benighted  peasantry  of  that  island  —  was  the 
subject  of  the  debate.  The  question  was  finally  voted 
upon  :  Shall  the  Idlewild  put  into  Manhegan,  and  shall 
its  dauntless  crew  seize  the  recreant  Ogden  vi  et  armi-s .; 


ONE  SUMMER.  945 

Ayes,  -  -  Otis  and  Blake,  Senior. 

Noes  (loud  and  deep),  —  the  ladies,  Morton,  and 
Blake,  Junior. 

The  Noes  were  triumphant,  and  Manhegan  Light  left 
in  the  distance. 

During  the  afternoon  of  this  day,  fired  by  an  un- 
holy desire  to  wage  war  upon  the  finny  denizens  of  the 
deep,  and  too  finical  to  remove  the  article  from  his  fin- 
ger, to  which  it  had  an  affinity,  Mr.  Tom  Otis,  in  detach- 
ing a  sculpin  —  a  fish  to  which  he  was  exceedingly  par- 
tial —  from  his  hook,  threw  into  the  raging  sea  a  ring 
of  considerable  intrinsic  and  incalculable  sentimental 
value.  For  further  particulars  inquire  of  Mrs.  Otis. 

He  desires  it  to  be  distinctly  understood,  that  he  did 
not  thereby  wed  the  billows  of  Owl's  Head  Harbor. 
They  were  not  the  Adriatic,  and  he  was  not  a  Dog[e] 
that  he  should  do  this  thing.  It  is  suggested  that, 
backed  by  the  authority  of  the  Arabian  Nights,  he  shall 
offer  a  vast  reward  for  the  ring,  and  publicly  give  notice 
that  all  cooks,  stewards,  and  seafaring  men  shall  here- 
after exercise  the  utmost  care  in  cleansing  fish,  lest 
they  lose  the  opportunity  of  finding  that  one  which 
wears  now  a  precious  jewel  in  his  head. 

Coming  up  on  deck  after  dinner,  a  sudden  silence 
fell  upon  our  merry  party,  even  Otis  and  Blake,  Senior, 
being  subdued  by  the  magnificence  of  the  sunset. 

The  Camden  Hills  to  the  northwest,  Ragged  Moun- 
tain and  Megunticook,  cold  and  in  shadow,  stood  out 
in  bold  contrast  against  the  brilliant,  warm  sky.  Si- 
lently we  watched  the  golden  glory  deepen,  and  the 
wonderful  rosy  light  that  followed,  and  shone  on  the 
gleaming  white  sails  of  twenty  or  thirty  little  coasters 
lying  at  anchor  around  us,  and  that  crept  higher  and 
higher,  until  its  radiance  was  reflected  in  the  water  be- 
low, and  the  whole  landscape  was  glorified.  The  last 
rays  fell  upon  the  bluff  on  which  the  lighthouse  stands, 
and  while  the  afterglow  still  lingered  with  its  fiery  opal 


246  ONE  SUMMER. 

hues  gradually  fading  away  in  deep  violet  clouds,  we 
took  a  short  sail  out  of  the  harbor,  passing  between 
numerous  little  rocky  islands  and  reefs,  gray-looking 
and  cold,  with  the  foam  rising  high  around  them,  and 
miles  in  the  distance  was  a  huge  fog-bank  which  seemed 
to  he  rolling  in  finely,  but  which  did  not  once  overtake 
us. 

SATURDAY,  September  1. 

From  Owl's  Head  to  Eggenioggm  Reach.  Under 
weigh  at  7  A.  n.,  having  secured  the  services  of  a  new 
pilot,  an  ancient  mariner  remarkable  for  his  misfor- 
tunes by  sea  and  by  land.  According  to  his  own 
account,  he  had  been"  wrecked  on  nearly  every  rock, 
cape,  island  and  sand-bar  from  Cape  Sable  to  the 
Florida  Keys,  and  he  certainly  ought  to  know  all  the 
perils  of  our  cruise.  While  sailing  slowly  up  Penob- 
scot  Bay,  with  light  breezes  and  fine  weather,  this 
old  Jonah  entertained  us  with  an  account  of  his  experi- 
ence in  the  law.  He  seems  to  have  been  always  at 
law,  and  in  fact  had  a  case  coming  on  when  he  joined 
us,  and  was  in  a  continual  fright  lest  he  should  not  be  at 
home  in  season  for  it.  As  he  always  got  ashore  in  his 
voyages,  so  he  was  always  swindled  in  his  Ijargains, 
and  seems  usually  to  have  gotten  the  worst  of  his  law- 
suits. The  effect  upon  his  mind  was  unfortunate.  He 
entertained  a  special  dislike  for  the  legal  profession, 
besides  being  generally  misanthropic.  His  anathemas 
against  lawyers  met  with  the  strongest  encouragement 
and  sympathy  from  those  brethren  in  the  law,  and  in 
all  manner  of  mischief.  Messrs.  Otis  and  Blake,  Senior. 

Under  his  guidance  we  were  lazily  wafted  up  Penob- 
scot  Bay,  with  light  northerly  winds.  Sailed  through 
the  Thoroughfare,  and  saw  the  great  white  dome  of -the 
Isle  au  Haut,  eight  or  ten  miles  to  the  southeast  as  \\e. 
came  up  by  North  Haven  towards  Eagle  Island  Light, 
which,  by  the  way,  had  the  honor  of  gaining  expres- 
sions of  unqualified  admiration  from  Miss  Doane,  and 


ONE  SUMMER.  247 

it  will  probably,  on  that  account,  hold  its  haughty  head 
higher  than  ever  above  the  waves. 

A  number  of  the  islands  were  extremely  pretty,  as 
we  sailed  up  the  bay.  We  made  Pumpkin  island  Light 
at  about  half  an  hour  before  sunset,  and  anchored  close 
under  Little  Deer  Island,  in  Eggemoggin  Reach.  Miss 
Doane  takes  exceptions  to  the  name  of  Pumpkin  Isl- 
and. Mrs.  Otis  also  denounces  it  bitterly.  They  say 
that  all  the  names  have  been  pretty,  Newaggen,  Man- 
hegan,  Owl's  Head,  and  Isle  au  Haut,  and  they  al.-:o 
graciously  approve  of  even  Eggemoggin,  Indian  names, 
however  unpronounceable,  being  always  charming  ;  but 
no  words  can  express  their  contempt  and  loathing  for 
poor  Pumpkin  Island.  Mr.  Otis  remarked  that  he  pre- 
sumed Asphodel  Lighthouse  or  Fringed  Gentian  Islet 
would  be  more  likely  to  find  favor  with  the  sickly, 
morbid  fancy  of  certain  persons  he  could  mention,  but 
that  for  his  part  he  admired  Pumpkin  Island  hugely. 
It  was  a  good  substantial,  sensible,  honest  name,  and 
patriotic,  moreover,  as  it  commemorated  the  national 
dish  of  New  England,  —  pumpkin-pie,  —  and  he  wished 
he  had  some. 

The  Infant  records  this  speech,  not  because  he  regards 
it  as  in  the  least  amusing  or  instructive,  but  merely  as 
an  illustration  of  the  heartless,  he  mignt  say  sinister 
style  of  comment  in  which  Mr.  Otis  and  Mr.  Harry 
Blake  have  taken  incredible  delight  during  the  whole 
voyage. 

SUNDAY,  September  2. 

Passed  a  quiet  day  at  anchor  here,  not  because  we 
•were  afraid  we  would  be  drowned  and  made  into  a 
tract  to  frighten  small  boys  if  we  should  continue  our 
course  on  Sunday,  but  because  the  ladies  say  the  Reach 
is  too  lovely  to  leave.  It  is  like  a  great,  calm,  broad 
river,  and  the  mainland  opposite  us  has  a  well-cul- 
tivated look,  and  the  soft  green  of  the  turf  and  foliage 
is  pleasant  to  look  upon. 


248  ONE  SUMMER. 

Those  ungodly  men,  Otis  and  Blake,  Senior,  took  the 
small  boat  and  went  off  to  the  ledge  with  guns.  They 
returned  with  three  coots,  and  were  not  recognized  by 
the  respectable  members  of  the  party.  We  sent  them 
to  Coventry  for  the  remainder  of  the  day. 

MONDAY,  September  3. 

Know  all  men  by  these  presents,  that  I,  being  duly 
sworn,  do  testify,  that,  in  the  judgment  of  the  whole 
company  on  board  the  Idlewild,  Monday,  the  third  day 
of  September,  18 — ,  Mr.  Tom  Otis  did  then  and  there 
eat,  beside  the  regular  courses,  at  dinner,  of  soup,  meats, 
and  vegetables,  — 

Fifteen  olives, 

One  box  of  sardines, 
Eight  sandwiches, 

Two  cocoanut-pies, 

Five  loaves  of  cake, 

A  bottle  of  chow-chow,  and 
Seven  cups  of  coffee  ; 

and  for  so  doing  was  awarded  the  first  prize,  having 
distanced  all  competitors. 

(Signed)  CHARLES  WILLIAM  BLAKE. 

Witnesses  :  — 

BESSIE  D.  OTIS. 
LAURA  LEIGH  DOAXE. 
RICHARD  HEXRY  MORTON. 

Blake,  Senior,  being  host,  feels  that  courtesy  forbids 
him  to  testily. 

Passed  out  of  Eggemoggin  Reach,  the  fertile  look  of 
the  country  vanishing,  and  the  bleak,  wild,  out-at-sea 
aspect  increasing  more  and  more  as  we  left  the  large 
Deer  Isle  and  sailed  among  numerous  white,  ledgy 
islands,  and  soon  approached  the  promontory  of  Bass 


ONE  SUMMER.  249 

Head,  the  southern  point  of  Mount  Desert.  We  sailed 
past  it,  into  Southwest  Harbor  for  the  superb  view,  and 
saw  the  Mount  Desert  hills  rising  grandly  before  us, 
while  Some's  Sound,  that  wonderfully  pretty  sheet  of 
water,  its  calm  clear  blue  contrasting  with  the  "  tumul- 
tuous sea"  outside,  —  " the  rough  green  plain  that  no 
man  reaps,"  —  ran,  straight  and  narrow,  far  into  the 
island  between  bold,  high  cliffs,  like  a  Norwegian  fiord, 
we  who  have  never  seen  a  fiord  confidently  assert 

Passed  between  the  Cranberry  Islands  and  Bear  Isl- 
and Light. 

Made  Bar  Harbor  at  5  P.  M.,  and  were  speedily  vis- 
ited by  troops  of  friends.  The  historiographer  would 
gracefully  excuse  himself  from  a  description  of  the 
magnificent  scenery  of  Mount  Desert.  For  information 
which  he  has  the  discretion  to  omit,  he  would  refer 
future  perusers  of  this  Log  to  artists  knowrn  to  fame 
and  many  authors  of  repute. 

He  is  aware  that  he  has  omitted  to  mention  various 
points  of  interest  along  this  attractive  Maine  coast,  and 
he  would  say,  in  apology,  that  but  nineteen  summers 
have  passed  over  his  head,- and  that  he  has  been  too 
much  interested  in  playing  piquet  with  Miss  Doane, 
to  tear  himself  away  from  that  charming  amusement 
and  devote  himself  to  the  dreary  labor  of  making  nau- 
tical and  geographical  observations. 

The  voyage  has  been  all  sunshine  and  gladness. 
1  We  did  not  design  to  exhibit  the  swiftness  of  our 
craft,  as  the  sailing  powers  of  the  Idlewild  have  long 
since  been  proven,  but  have  wished  merely  to  sail 
here  and  there  at  the  will  of  our  fair  passengers.  That 
our  return  voyage  may  be  as  happy,  is  our  devout 
hope. 

In  conclusion,  it  may  be  well  to  mention  that  there 
has  been  an  entire  immunity  from  sea-sickness,  although 
Mr.  Richard  Morton  dined  one  day  upon  deck,  making 
an  entire  repast  upon  one  lemon. 

The   Idlewild  party  is  now  strolling  about  on  the 


250  ONE  SUMMER. 

rocks  in  a  state  of  perfect  bliss,  all  except  the  poor  his- 
toriographer, whom  an  inhuman  brother  has  left  behind 
to  complete  the  Log,  and  do  the  honors  of  the  yacht  to 
such  visitors  as  may  appear. 

The  Idlewild  people  were  received  with  great 
rejoicing  by  numerous  friends  at  Bar  Harbor,  and 
it  occurred  to  one  hospitable  soul  to  give  a  picnic 
of  gigantic  proportions  in  their  honor.  The  guests, 
sixty  in  number,  were  bidden  to  the  feast  at  seven 
o'clock,  and  shortly  after  that  hour  the  bluff  over 
Anemone  Cave  was  the  scene  of  much  hilarity,  as 
gay  groups  of  friends  ate  sandwiches,  drank  cof- 
fee, and  gossiped,  with  the  grand  old  ocean  rolling 
in  solemnly  below  them. 

"  Leigh,"  whispered  Tom,  "  don't  drop  your 
muffin  on  the  buttered  side,  or  pour  your  coffee 
down  your  sleeve  in  your  agitation,  but  Ogden 
came  over  to  Southwest  Harbor  yesterday,  and 
he  arrived  here  to-day,  and  he 's  about  five  feet  off, 
just  behind  you,  and  he  's  coming  this  way  as  fast 
sis  he  can,  but  somebody  —  an  uncommonly  attrac- 
tive young  lady,  by  the  way  —  has  just  buttonholed 
him.  I  did  not  tell  you  all  at  once,  for  fear  you 
could  not  bear  it." 

In  a  moment  Philip  approached,  and  saw  Leigh's 

"Sweet  face  in  the  sunset  light 
Upraised  and  glorified." 

And  though  the  "  madding  crowd  "  was  there  and 
the  senseless  chatter,  and  the  commonplace  bread 
and  butter  and  pickles,  the  inexpressible  gladness 
in  her  eyes,  as  she  turned  and  looked  up  at  him, 
told  him  that  his  brief  absence  had  been  a  saga- 
11* 


ONE  SUMMER.  251 

cious  thing,  and  that  the  pearl  was  his  own.  He 
wondered  if  the  voluble  young  lady  on  the  other 
side  of  him  ever  would  cease  urging  him  to  par- 
take of  the  salad  over  which  she  presided,  and  if 
picnics  at  Bar  Harbor  went  on  forever.  The  two 
talked  nonsense  with  the  others,  and  ate  they 
knew  not  what. 

At  last  the  darkness  deepened.  The  moon  rose 
superbly  over  the  sea,  and  everybody  climbed 
down  the  rocks  to  the  shore  to  see  what  wonders 
were  going  on  in  the  Cave. 

Into  its  mysterious  depths  two  gentlemen  had 
vanished.  Presently  its  recesses  were  illumined 
by  a  gleaming  red  light  which  disclosed  its  little 
shining  pools  of  water,  and  its  rough  jagged  sides, 
and  shone  out  upon  the  groups  of  ladies  and  at- 
tendant cavaliers  at  different  heights  on  the  cliff, 
and  met  the  moonlight  far  out  on  the  waves  with 
a  singular  effect.  A  yellow  light  followed,  and  a 
ghastly  green,  and  then  these  wizards  of  Anemone 
Cave  sent  off  some  rockets,  and  various  other 
whizzing  things. 

"  I  do  feel  really  disappointed,"  exclaimed  Bes- 
sie. "  I  always  had  a  profound  respect  for  a  rocket. 
I  thought  it  quite  a  magnificent  spectacle  ;  but 
does  n't  it  seem  small,  and  mean,  and  insignificant, 
and  frightfully  impertinent,  for  it  to  go  buzzing 
away  at  the  old  ocean  1"  Receiving  no  reply  from 
Philip  and  Leigh,  to  whom  her  remark  was  ad- 
dressed, the  kindly  disposed  little  woman  went  on, 
"  0  dear,  dear  !  I  actually  believe  there  is  my  Tom 
flirting  with  Miss  McArthur.  She's  entirely  too 
pretty,  and  she  knows  how  !  Where  is  Mr.  Mor- 


252  ONE  SUMMER. 

ton  1  0  Mr.  Morton,  would  you  be  so  kind  as 
to  take  ine  round  to  the  other  side  of  the  cliff'? 
There  's  something  going  on  there  which  I  must 
put  a  stop  to  at  once.  Would  you  believe  it  1  that 
incorrigible  husband  of  mine  — 

She  vanished,  and  Leigh  and  Philip  wandered 
away  over  the  rocks. 

An  hour  later  they  sat  together,  caring  little 
for  the  vast  cliffs  towering  above  them,  or  for  the 
foaming  surf  at  their  feet.  They  saw  but  the 
gladness  in  each  other's  eyes.  Their  own  mur- 
murs spoke  a  mightier  language  in  their  ears  than 
the  voice  of  the  great  waves.  Yet  they  sought  in 
vain  to  express  the  meaning  that  overcharged  their 
hearts,  for 

"  Love's  tenderest,  truest  secret  lingers, 
Ever  in  its  depths  untold," 

and  its  sweetest  words  are  only 

"  Like  sighings  of  illimitable  forests 
Aud  waves  of  an  unfathomable  sea." 


"  And  are  you  glad  to  see  me,  dear  1  And  are 
you  quite  '  sure  of  yourself  now  1  And  is  it  like 
your  '  theories '  ?  " 

"  I  was  very,  very  glad,  but  I  think  you  took 
an  unfair  advantage  in  surprising  me,  and  some 
day  I  will  have  my  revenge." 

"  And  will  you  go  out  on  the  prairies  and  live 
in  a  log-cabin  with  me,  if  ever  I  ask  you  ]  Will 
you,  Leigh?" 

"  No,  sir,  never,  if  you  persist  in  remembering 
all  the  idle  words  I  ever  said,  and  wickedly  repeat- 
ing them  to  me." 


ONE  SUMMER.  253 

"  But  would  you,  Leigh  1 "  he  persisted. 

"  I  am  really  disappointed  in  you  already.  I 
never  dreamed  you  would  develop  into  a  tease 
like  Tom.  Do  you  know,  I  've  read  that  success 
ruins  some  natures  1 " 

"  But  would  you  1 " 

She  hesitated  ;  then,  "  I  will  go  to  the  very 
end  of  the  world  with  you  one  day  if  you  should 
wish,"  she  said  in  low,  earnest  tones.  "  Why  do 
you  make  me  tell  you  ?  You  know  so  well." 

"Forgive  me  Leigh  ;  it  is  so  sweet  to  hear  you 
say  it,  how  could  I  help  asking?  But,  dear,  if 
ever  I  ask  you  to  live  in  a  log-cabin,  it  shall  be 
only  for  a  couple  of  months  in  the  summer.  And 
the  cabin  shall  be  as  pretty  as  you  please,  and  it 
must  be  at  Edgecomb  somewhere.  How  would 
our  island  do,  just  where  the  old  fort  is  1 " 

"  And  it  must  be  called  '  The  Gem,'  "  said  Leigh, 
amused.  Then,  realizing  that  this  was  indeed 
giving  to  remote  shadowy  things  a  "  local  habita- 
tion and  a  name,"  she  sprung  up  with  a  sweet  shy- 
ness in  her  face. 

"  Shall  we  not  find  Bessie  now  1 " 

Suddenly  she  stepped  back  to  Philip.  The 
moon  shone  gloriously  on  the  water,  and  threw  its 
white  radiance  over  the  girl  as  she  said  impul- 
sively, — 

"  Please  sit  down,  just  where  you  were.  There 
is  something  I  must  do.  Close  your  eyes,"  she 
commanded.  Philip  obeyed.  Half  tenderly,  half 
laughingly,  she  murmured,  "  This  is  reparation." 
And  he  felt  the  light,  timid  touch  of  her  lips  on 
either  closed  eyelid.  "  I  am  so  sorry,  —  I  was  so 


254 


ONE  SUMMER. 


sorry  then,  —  I  have  been  sorry  all  the  time,"  she 
murmured.  "  How  cruel  I  was  !  " 

And  Philip,  with  his  great  happiness  sounding 
in  his  voice,  yet  with  the  same  lightness  of  man- 
ner which  Leigh  had  assumed,  to  cover  a  strange 
depth  of  emotion,  said,  — 

"  That  memorable  blow  did  close  my  eyes  for  a 
time,  it  is  true,  but  only  to  open  them  to  new  and 
wonderful  radiance.  My  whole  life  shall  show  you 
my  gratitude  for  it.  Think  to  what  honor  it  has 
raised  me.  My  darling,  my  queen,  it  was  my 
royal  accolade." 


THE   END. 


Cambridge  :  Printed  by  Welch,  Bigelow,  &  Co. 


This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last 
date  stamped  below 


10»n:ll,'50(2555)470 


L  007  408  462  5 


